1 THE PROFESSOR AND THE STUDENT

It's been a couple of days since Damien moved into the mansion, along with four other tenants. The mansion has become a mixed dwelling for both male and female; college students or professors or any other professions.

Lie wasn't bothered since the house was big enough for them not to see each other much. It's been a few days. She had expected that she'd see Damien at least once since he had arrived but she was disappointed.

With a sigh, she put her detergents and fabric conditioners into her hampers and brought them to the basement where the washroom can be found. As always, she wore one of the comfy shirts and shorts she usually wore at home. Her feet were bare against the floor, letting her feel the softness of the carpet and the coolness of the wood floors. She knew nothing about houses or antiques, or she knew barely enough to be considered knowledgeable about them.

She knew that that vase was from the Ming dynasty, but she didn't know which year or which material was used to make it. She knew that that curtain was hand-stitched, but she wasn't sure who exactly made it and which material.

With an exasperated sigh, she opened the door to the basement and pushed it with her hip before taking the steps towards the dim room. Michael had known of her fear of the dark so he made sure that the washroom was always illuminated just in case she suddenly decided to do her laundry in the middle of the night (which was not far from reality because of her moods).

She separated her colored clothes from the whites and the underwear, then tossed the whites into the washer before putting detergent. She took the underwear to the tiled area where she could sit on the small plastic chair and handwash her underwear.

It was true that she came from money. Old, old money, but she didn't live like a princess like her sister. She actually lived like a commoner with her mother, as the illegitimate child of the business tycoon, Marcus Ford Fitzgerald, the owner of Fitzgerald Industries. It was not like Marcus didn't want her. It was just that her mother was too stubborn to give her up to her father.

She was 18 when her mom decided that she could not support her university expenses anymore and sent her to her father, who accepted her with open arms. She had 12 older brothers—9 were adopted—and an older twin sister. It was pretty unfair that Gannie had to stay with their dad but she sort of understood too. It would have broken her mom so much if both twins were taken from her. It was a good thing that Gannie usually visited them throughout the years until she became very busy with university and other company works.

Now, Calliope Ford Fitzgerald was a professor at the age of 24, and on her way to getting her doctorate degree and finishing her second novel. Even then, she felt like she was nothing compared to her brothers and sister. They were all so successful that it was difficult to keep up.

She scrubbed her underwear hard as her thoughts scattered. Bubbles and water had made their way to her exposed and open thighs but she continued to do what she was doing in thought that no one was there to see Professor Callie Fitzgerald washing her underwear.

"That's a sexy one," a voice from behind her made her twist her head so fast she heard a snap in her neck. "Oooh… careful, I wouldn't want you to injure yourself because you were too excited to see me." Damien took a chair and straddled it before propping his chin on his arms with a smile at the woman. "Hi!"

Callie gave a small smile and continued to scrub her pink underwear then squeezed the bubbles out before tossing it to the pail filled with clean water. "Here to do your laundry, Mr. Criss?" She picked another pair of panties and proceeded to scrub it between her hands again, spraying herself some of the small bubbles in the process.

Damien had to lick his overly dry lips as he watched her wash that incredibly sexy underwear. "Nope. Not at all, ma'am. I just came to see what I could do for you," he lied. She smelled like flowers this time. Roses? He didn't know which one but that was her scent today. Wasn't it exciting to guess what kind of scent she would use for the day?

The professor eyed the student. "You should probably be studying for the upcoming midterms, Criss."

He shrugged at that. He could ace those exams if he wanted, but now, he's more interested in the woman who seemed to be angrily scrubbing her panties. "Maybe I can ask you to tutor me?"

"As far as I know, you're one of the brightest in your classes, Criss," she replied and tossed the finished panties to the pail before washing another one. How would it feel to have him push her down the wet tiles and just push his hard cock into her awaiting hole? To have him devour her, ramming into her like a man desperate for his life? How would it feel?

She had to shake her head a little to push the thoughts away.

Damien smiled. He knew he could never fool this one, not when she's so concentrated on her task. He licked his lips as his mind went to places it shouldn't. He had her pushed against the wall of the washroom. He had thrown her shorts somewhere behind him and now, he was prepared to just ram into her. No, no… he won't do that. Maybe he'll tease her first. Make her beg for mercy.

He chuckled to himself as his eyes landed on the flesh visible over the neckline of her shirt. It was small compared to others but still delicious. He can bet his monthly salary that they would be super sensitive under any form of touch. Would she squirm and moan when he cups them? Or would she gasp and pant?

The idea of it all sent a jolt to his manhood. What parts of her would make her shiver in anticipation? That spot on her neck where her pulse continued to beat? Or would it be her inner thighs that were now soaked in bubbly and slippery water?

He closed his eyes and imagined her standing before him with nothing covering her body. He knew that her nipples won't be pink like those he had had before. They would be the color of caramel… maybe even chocolate. He smiled in appreciation. His eyes moved a little bit lower to her slightly bulging belly and her love handles, then down to her hips. He cleared his throat when his eyes landed on the mound between her rounded and fleshy thighs. How would it feel to bury his face there? How would it feel to be captured in the heat of those thighs?

If that body was his, he would mark every inch of it. She won't be able to wear such showy and short clothes unless she was prepared to explain how she got the bite marks and love bites on her skin.

He snapped out of it when he heard the distinct plop of panties into the pail again. His eyes remained on the professor. "Got a boyfriend, Miss Fitzgerald?" he asked out of nowhere, completely forgetting the initial conversation they just had.

"Nope, not that I know of," she replied without looking at him. She rolled her shoulders to ease the knots that formed there before continuing her task though her mind was filled with images too.

He has had her wet with the soapy water, making her already tight clothes stick to her skin even more. Like a man possessed by Lust himself, he tore at her clothes until she had nothing but her panties on. "Damien… No…" she whispered while trying to cover her nakedness but the younger man simply took hold of her hands and pinned them over her head.

"You look hot like this," he whispered while igniting flames of lust on her skin with his slow and fleeting gaze. "I could take you a thousand times and still won't have enough." He trailed his fingertips from her lips down to her breasts and circled each nipple slowly.

Her breath caught at the feeling of her sensitized skin being teased.

Then his fingers moved down to the plane of her stomach until they reached the fabric of her panties. It made her wish she was wearing something sexy and slutty instead of the cotton panties she had.

His fingers searched and probed until they parted her lower lips apart. "Open your thighs wider now," he instructed and chuckled when she obeyed. He looked at her and pushed a finger in, chuckling with pure amusement as he realized how tight she was. "Oh… am I the first to touch you like this, Lie?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She squirmed at the feeling of that thick and long finger pushing deeply into her. "Nnn…"

He licked his lips and moved it in and out slowly. Out until only the tip is inside her, pause, then push back in just as slowly. Just enough to make her squirm for more. She lifted her hips demandingly, wanting more.

She opened her eyes and looked at him hotly. "Fuck me…"

He chuckled and removed his pants and briefs without a word, just as she had asked, he spread her thighs apart and pushed in deeply into her.

"…Miss Fitzgerald!" Damien snapped his fingers right in front of Lie's face, making the professor blink and blush all of a sudden. What a curious little reaction.

She looked at him, face hot and burning, and smiled. "Yes? I'm sorry I was… kinda out of it."

"Your whites are done. Should I unload them for you?" he asked though he prayed that she'd say no to it since his hard-on was evident in his pants.

"No, I'll do it," she smiled and stood up.

Damien sighed and watched her some more. If only she was one of those easy targets, she would have been under him in three seconds flat if he wanted but she was different. She was out of his league. She was… he tilted his head and tried to think of a more valid word to use to describe her. Goddess. The word popped in his mind. Yeah… she was a goddess in comparison to his mortal position.

His eyes dropped to her eyes as she bent to retrieve her clothes. They were chocolate brown. Who knew that brown could look so sexy? Before meeting her, he thought that they were boring. But with her, they were universes filled with beautiful galaxies. Her hair, those wavy locks, were enough to make any man go crazy with thoughts of holding them between his fingers and just burying their faces in there. Would her hair be softer than it looked?

"What shampoo do you use?" he asked out of nowhere, catching both of them off guard.

"Uhm… It depends on which shampoo I manage to pick up whenever I go to the supermarket. I have no favorites at all," she replied as she finished unloading her whites. Next were her light colors. "How about you?" She wanted to keep him talking, his voice was different than that of Michael's. She just couldn't pinpoint the right adjective to use for it. He's not too baritone nor was his voice deep. What kind of a writer was she if she couldn't even use the right descriptive word for his voice?

"I use one of those menthol thingies coz they're cool for my scalp. How about perfumes?"

She thought about it even as she poured detergent to the washer then turned it on. "I do not use just one perfume. I use a couple depending on my mood. Sometimes I use colognes instead of perfumes," she explained and went back to the tiny chair to continue scrubbing her undies. "I like your cologne. You smell so masculine and powerful. Like the message was 'smell that? Yeah, I'm more delicious than how I smell' or something like that."

His lips curved up at that. "So do you imagine how I taste, Miss Fitzgerald?" he teased as he leaned closer over the back of the chair he was straddling.

She chuckled at that and refused to look at him. "Only a woman with no sense of sex and self will not imagine how a heartthrob would taste, Criss. Now, shoo. You're disturbing me."

"But Miss Fitzgerald…"

"Lie… just call me Lie when we're at home, will you? Michael calls me Lie, and he's my student in one of his subjects."

"If I call you Lie, you might as well call me Damien."

"Not Terry?"

"Absolutely not. Just Damien." He stood up and gave her a wink before leaving her behind.

When the sounds of footsteps disappeared, Lie buried her face against her knees and took a shuddering breath. Fuck. You're just interested in him sexually, Lie. That's all there is. You're just addicted to the thought of sex. He might not even be that good in sex. You're just curious. That's all.