Work Text:
Initially, you had signed up for the course about transnational crime because it sounded interesting, the premise of a guest lecturer who taught about his field of work immediately drawing your interest. Usually, those guest professors managed to transfer their knowledge way more engaging than the resident ones, who were a bit too deep in their theoretical studies.
It only took half an hour of the first lecture until word started to spread about the hot new guest professor. With the second lecture, the auditorium turned into a catwalk. Skirts and dresses got shorter, blouses opened just a tad too much, and there was no space in front of the bathroom mirrors because everyone suddenly had to refresh their makeup.
Normally, you sat in the last row. You always did, could concentrate better when you sat there on your own, and it was enough to avoid being asked too many questions by the professors. Not that you weren’t attentive, you were just a bit shy. But with the great influx of new students, your preferred spot was no longer quiet and peaceful, instead filled with annoying giggles and chatter, so you resorted to the only remaining free spot in the whole auditorium.
First row.
Definitely out of your comfort zone, but you wanted to pass this course, and it wasn’t like your new professor was hard on the eyes.
The way his biceps strained the fabric of his dress shirt and the fact that you could probably draw his back muscles from memory alone after watching him write on the chalkboard for the past few hours wasn’t really helping with your focus. Not to mention the hint of his cologne that seemed to cling to you whenever he walked past your seat.
Silencing those thoughts as soon as they bubbled to the surface because you were pretty sure that this man didn’t need another girl who was swooning over him instead of listening to his lecture.
Price had sworn to himself that he would not start anything with one of his students. No matter how much Ghost and Soap were mocking him about how he needed a woman in his life because he was essentially married to the Taskforce at this point.
But this was not the time, nor the place to find someone. Not only would it cause a ton of problems, but it could also cost him his new position, and besides, he never really had a thing for younger women. He didn’t care for the countless girls that tried to charm him. But unfortunately, this wasn’t because of his plan to keep to himself. No, from the moment you snuck onto that seat in the first row, he only had eyes for you.
Maybe it was the way you looked up to him through dark eyelashes or the way you absentmindedly put your pen in your mouth when you were concentrating.
No matter what it was, it wasn’t helping with his focus, the task of keeping his pants from straining getting harder with every passing lecture.
Especially after the lecture was over and he had to watch you pack up your stuff. Excruciatingly slow, as if you wanted him to notice, yet so effortlessly entrancing.
A stark contrast to the girls that stood around his desk, bombarding him with stupid questions. Causing him to excuse himself as soon as you left the auditorium. No need for him to stay a second longer, no matter how many of those girls were just waiting for a signal to sink to their knees right in front of him.
To make matters worse, Price wasn’t even sure if you were doing all of this on purpose. Or if you were just trying to be an eager student, and if he was acting like a creep that was fantasizing about you way too much for his own good.
So he tried his hardest to keep his growing need for you under control and that went well, until the day of the first exam came up.
Since you were sitting in the first row, he had to hand a stack of exam papers to you, so that you could hand them to the students behind you. But your hand briefly touched his, just for a few milliseconds, and then you looked up at him with the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen.
„I’m sorry, Sir,“ you whispered, and in that second, Price wanted to do unholy things to you just to hear you moan those words the next time they left your mouth.
After this little incident, it was impossible for him to get you out of his head. No matter how hard he tried, it felt as if you had cemented yourself in there, cutting out a chunk of his prefrontal cortex, robbing him of his rationality just to make room for you. He had to do something, at least find out if you were even interested because he didn’t think he could forgive himself if he didn’t try.
„Miss y/l/n, please come see me after class.“
An uneasy feeling spread in your stomach upon hearing his words. Surely you must have messed up that exam a week ago, badly, because there was literally no other reason for him to talk to you.
The minute Price ended the lecture, your heart rate went up. A tiny part of you wanted to leave, but that wouldn’t be particularly mature of you. Apart from that, you really enjoyed his course so far, had studied so much for it, and it would have been a waste of time not to finish it just because you were nervous to speak to him.
You had to face this talk. If something went wrong with your exam, you would just try to explain yourself and apologize. He’d surely understand, it wasn’t like you tried to cheat. So you gathered all your courage as you walked up to his desk, not exactly oozing confidence, but appearing way more calm than you felt on the inside.
Overhearing how he told the other girls to leave as he saw you approach, and you were thankful that looks couldn’t kill as you saw the glaring looks they shot you as you walked past them.
Price was leaning against his desk, still much taller than you despite his relaxed stance. His muscular build was even more noticeable up close, blue eyes looking down at you. Like the sea on a stormy day, dangerously easy to get lost in them.
„You wanted to talk to me, Sir?“
The way that word sounded coming out of your mouth made him need every last bit of his iron will to keep his cock from twitching. His hands wandered up to his neck to loosen his tie.
Strong, calloused hands.
Made for battle, not for grading papers. Hands that could leave goosebumps in their wake, skilled fingers that would surely elicit moans to spill from your perfectly plump lips.
“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about your exam-,“ Price started to speak.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t-,“ you interrupted him quickly, not really the polite act you had agreed upon with yourself, but you were just too nervous. And Price was not having it.
“Miss y/l/n, I wasn’t done with my sentence,“ he said in a scolding tone.
The way you immediately bit down on your lower lip made him wonder how you’d behave in the bedroom, if you’d obediently listen to his commands, or if he had to- thinking about that wasn’t helping with keeping the bulge in his pants at a minimum, and apart from that, he still had to find out if you were even up for it.
“And there is no need to apologize. Your exam was the best one I graded, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Somehow you even managed to recount things I mentioned in passing.“
“Oh,“ you said quietly, a bit surprised, „thank you?“
“Well, I should thank you for actually studying for this test,“ he laughed.
It was a deep laugh, a rumble that came straight from his chest - and it made you fucking weak in the knees.
Hearing those words of praise from him felt way too good, and it made your mind wander somewhere else entirely. Thinking about how it would sound if he praised you for taking his cock like a good girl - you had to stop that little mental detour immediately if you wanted to keep your cool.
“I really don’t want to talk badly about other students,“ he continued to speak, snapping you out of your daydream, „but most of the exams I graded so far made me wonder if anyone even listens to my lecture. Maybe I’m just horrible at this job, it’s definitely easier to brief soldiers than to keep the attention of a herd of young adults.“
You just looked at him, switching between smiling shyly and nodding, not quite sure how much of your input was needed right now.
“Sorry, I’m sure you have somewhere to go instead of listening to my ramblings,“ Price said with a laugh, sneakily concealing the question that lay behind his words.
“No, I don’t-„ Great, now you sounded like you were desperate for his attention, “I mean it’s fine, it must be hard to teach for the first time.“
“It really is,“ he suppressed the urge to call you his darling already, „but that’s not what I initially wanted to talk to you about.“
Your heart rate sped up, again. Delicate fingers absentmindedly reached for one of the pens on Price’s desk, as if your subconsciousness desperately needed something to hold onto to keep you from spiraling further into your dirty fantasies.
“You are writing your Bachelor thesis on the subject of interrogation methods in a military context?“
You nodded eagerly, a slight blush spreading on your cheeks. His question meant that he had been trying to find out more about you. Flattering.
"Well, I’d say I know a thing or two about that,“ a smile flickered across his face, „if you want, you can come visit me in my office here on campus and I’ll be happy to help you with your thesis.“
His offer felt like a godsend. Finding someone who had more than theoretical knowledge on that topic wasn’t exactly easy, and if you managed to find someone, they usually had better things to do than talk to you. The fact that his offer also meant that you could spend time with him, alone, made it even better, even though it undeniably made you a bit nervous.
Carefully, you tried to pick the right words. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but you also didn’t want to appear as someone who was over-enthusiastic, desperate for their professor’s time and attention.
“Thank you, Sir, I really appreciate your offer. And I’ll gladly take you up on it, just let me know when your schedule allows us to have a talk.“
“Friday, 8 pm, my office.“
Not a question, a statement.
Because something about those doe eyes of yours told Price that you yearned for guidance, for strong words and even stronger hands that told you what to do.
“Yes, Sir,“ you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper.
And fuck, if Price didn’t hit the nail on the head with his assumption about you. You nervously bit down on your lower lip again, and it took all of his strength not to scold you for it.
You're ruining those beautiful lips, darling, I’ll show you a better way to keep that pretty mouth of yours busy.
But instead of speaking his mind, he just nodded, and you took that as a hint not to waste his time any longer, saying your goodbyes, thanking him again for his offer before you turned around to leave the auditorium.
You were almost at the door when his deep voice reached you, his smirk audible as he spoke.
“Miss y/l/n, I expect you to return my pen when you come to my office.“
Friday night came, and to say you were nervous would have been a massive understatement. You spent the whole afternoon searching for an appropriate outfit, only to find out that your wardrobe didn’t provide anything that fit your expectations. Thankfully, your roommate was nice enough to lend you one of her black pencil skirts. Paired with a white blouse, you looked at least a bit put together. It took you long enough because a glimpse at the clock told you it was time to go if you wanted to be on time.
During the walk to the building where the offices were located, you already noticed that the skirt was a tad too tight, but there was no time for you to go back and get changed. You’d rather sit through this whole evening and be uncomfortable instead of being late.
So you just continued walking, Price’s pen securely stashed away in your purse and a bottle of red wine in your hand. Probably a bit inappropriate, now that you thought about it, but you didn’t want to come empty-handed, needed something to show your appreciation for his offer to help with your thesis.
You usually preferred sweeter drinks, but you weren’t sure if a man like him would be pleased if you brought a bottle of homemade Sangria. Red wine was definitely a more mature pick - and a bit of a middle ground. You even called your mom to ask her for recommendations, ending the phone call rather quickly as soon as she began to ask too many questions.
The building was already deserted, the floorboards creaking as you made your way through the hallway. Your hand was shaking slightly as you knocked on the door with the sign ‘Cpt. John Price’ attached to it, and as if he could feel your nervousness seeping through underneath it, Price called you in before you could change your mind and go back to your dorm. The distinctive smell of cigars, mixing with his cologne greeted you as soon as you entered his office, closing the heavy wooden door behind you.
„Perfectly on time, my soldiers should take a page from your book,“ he laughed, his eyes even more mesmerizing in the dim lightening.
A small desk lamp was the only light source in the surprisingly spacious office. You were thankful for the lack of bright lights, as it hid the blush that once again started to spread on your cheeks, especially as you drank the sight in front of you.
Price sat in his office chair, leaned back, muscular legs spread slightly, and all you wanted to do was sink to your knees in front of him, your nails grazing over his thighs while your mouth was busy-
Focus. Goddamn, that man was having a hold over you.
„Please, take a seat Miss y/l/n,“ Price immediately said as he saw the nervousness on your face.
Endearing. So shy, it made him wonder what it would take for you to lose that.
„Thank you, Sir,“ you said quietly, the bottle of wine still in your hand. How confident, holding his present hostage.
„Please, don’t call me Sir, it makes me feel old,“ he laughed, “I’m John.“
That wasn’t the whole truth. Price loved the way you called him Sir, and in a different situation, he’d love to hear that word leave your pretty lips, but right now, it was making his thoughts spiral into dangerous territory.
He held out his hand to you, and his handshake felt just like you had expected. Rough hands, the firm grip of a man that could silence a whole room in a matter of seconds if he wanted to. He oozed real dominance with every breath he took, unlike the guys you usually dated. No ring on his finger, giving you hope that no Mrs. Price was waiting for him back home. Already questioning his marital status just because he had offered to help you with your thesis, how mature.
Speaking of your thesis - you had prepared a few questions for this little meeting. Saved in a file on your laptop, the laptop that you just realized was sitting on your bed back in your dorm. Great.
“Sir, ah, I mean John,” you corrected yourself with a shy smile, “I hope you like red wine, my mo-, my friend told me that this is the best Shiraz you can get around here,” you finally snapped yourself out of your trance, putting the bottle down on his desk.
Wondering if one could die of embarrassment because you sure felt like it. Normally, you weren’t this shy. Yes, you were an introvert, but somehow you seemed to lose all your social skills as soon as you were near Price.
He thanked you with a laugh, that laugh again, before he got up to fetch two glasses from one of the cupboards in the corner of the room. You decided to use that second to calm down a little, and to get his pen out of your purse before you’d steal it a second time.
Unfortunately, your fingers were so shaky that you immediately dropped the pen upon taking it out of your handbag. You tried to catch it with your foot, but since the floors in this old building were slightly uneven, it rolled away before you could stop it. The normal reaction would have been to either ignore it, or to get up from your chair and crouch down to pick it up, but the second you tried that, you noticed that your friend's skirt was way too tight for that to work out.
So you did what your brain decided was the best solution - you got onto all fours and tried to get the pen out from under the cupboard under which it had rolled. You were so concentrated on getting that stupid pen back, that you didn’t acknowledge that Price was watching you, slowly walking closer to you, a grin on his face. So embarrassingly focused that it was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed what the hell you were doing right now.
“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be crawling around on the floor,” he said with a laugh, admiring the view in front of him.
Even though that was a bit of a lie too. Price wanted to see you crawl; to him, preferably with a bit less fabric covering your curves, his leather belt around your neck like a leash as you made yourself comfortable in between his legs- he was getting ahead of himself again.
His self-control around you was already bad enough, he didn’t have to make matters worse by indulging in those dirty fantasies. But before he could stop himself, he crouched down slightly, his body not really listening to the commands of his brain anymore. His big hand found your cheek, tilting your head so that you had to look at him, the slight blush on your cheeks making him forget about all his good intentions.
“You didn’t tell me your name, darling.”
“y/n,” you stammered, wondering if you were dreaming or if this was really happening. The pen was completely forgotten as you sat back on your heels in front of him, his hand still on your cheek, his thumb sliding over your lip, and you doubted that this was unintentional.
“Such a pretty face,” he whispered as you looked up at him, “so innocent.”
A smile tugged at your lips as you noticed the bulge in his pants, and it took all your self-control not to put your hands on him. You looked at him hungrily, his grip on your face tightening slightly.
“Maybe not so innocent,” he said with a dry chuckle, letting his thumb slide in between your lips.
Just to test his theory, of course.
And that was the second you decided to give in to what you wanted because apparently, he wanted it too. You opened your mouth for him, and a part of you wanted to beg him to take his cock out and fuck your face until you were gagging on his length, but something about his demeanor told you that he was the one in charge.
It seems like Price either got his composure back after a few seconds - well, either that, or he completely lost it, because his strong hands found your waist, yanking you up with shocking ease.
God, you’d happily let this man throw you through this whole room.
He turned you around, pulling down the zipper of your skirt, because while it looked hot on you, it was in the way, and too tight to just shove it up, so it had to go.
What a shame.
He slid it down your body, exposing your lacy underwear. Smiling to himself, because it seemed like he wasn’t the only one that had different intentions for this meeting. Turning you back around to face him as soon as you stepped out of your skirt, your hands finding his dress shirt as you wanted to begin opening the buttons.
He quickly put a halt to that, because that wasn’t how this was going to go. Softly guiding both of your hands to hold onto his belt as he proceeded to open your blouse. Slowly, as if he was opening a luxurious present, savoring every glimpse of your skin until your blouse joined your skirt on the floor.
Your breath quickened as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs sliding over your hardened nipples, a gasp escaping you as he squeezed slightly. You pressed your thighs together, already feeling your wetness soak your panties.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he whispered as he closed the distance between him and you, his lips finding yours. The kiss was soft at first as if he was trying hard to hold back, but you were just too needy, almost moaning against his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
Sinking into his touch until you felt him pick you up. He lifted you up in a swift motion, your legs wrapping around his body almost instinctively, and you could feel his bulge pressing against your ass from beneath. Your lips were still pressed against his, the kiss turning desperate in a matter of seconds, his hand in your hair, grabbing you to force you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. His beard tickled your soft skin as he placed kiss after kiss on your neck.
“You taste like fuckin’ sin, baby,” he murmured, carrying you over to his desk.
He shoved the papers that were scattered there to the side with his free hand before he sat you down on the table, reluctantly ending the kiss. You bit down on your lower lip as you looked at him, eyes full of want. His hand found the back of your bra, opening it before adding another piece of clothing to the pile on the floor while he was still fully dressed. His tongue slid hungrily over your exposed breasts, teeth biting down on the supple flesh of your chest, not hard enough to leave a mark; not yet.
“John, please…” you whimpered, arching your back to press yourself closer to him, way too desperate for this man already.
“Please what, darling?” he asked, his mouth leaving your breast to go back to your neck, the sound of his husky voice enough to send a shiver down your spine.
You swallowed thickly because while you wanted this man more than you ever wanted anyone, the shy part of you still had trouble voicing that need.
“Come on, baby, tell me what you need,” he whispered encouragingly, undermining his statement with a bite on your neck, one that would leave a mark. Something about your shyness, about seeing that blush on your cheeks again, made it hard for him to hold back.
“Please, touch me,” you forced out, almost able to feel how the blood in your body wasn’t sure if it should go to your cheeks or a bit lower.
“Sorry,” he groaned, and before you could ask why he was apologizing, you heard the sound of ripping fabric and felt a cool rush of air against your wet center.
“God, already so wet for me,” he said as he let his fingers wander over your cunt. Pushing two fingers in, his thumb rubbing over your clit while you arched your back, desperate to feel more of him, grinding yourself against his hand.
He curled his fingers so that he was hitting your g-spot with every move of his hand, and soon, your walls clenched around his fingers, your climax beginning to wash over you when he suddenly pulled out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing as you watched him hastily opening his pants, as if your moans surged right through his body, going straight to his throbbing cock,
“You won’t come unless I allow you to,” he growled as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding his cock over your wet cunt, relishing the whimpers that left you every time he slid over your already oversensitive clit.
“Understand?” He stated more than asked, pressing his tip inside, ignoring how you tried to force him deeper by moving your hips.
You nodded, too far gone to speak properly, but that little nod wasn’t enough for him.
“Answer me,” he commanded, his thumb back on your clit, not really helping you with the task of speaking.
“Yes, Sir,” you whimpered, earning you a kiss from him.
With a low groan, he buried his whole length inside of you, his hand still on you, his movements only stopping when you got a bit too close to your orgasm for his liking. You could feel him stretching you open every time he thrust into you, holding onto his shoulders as he picked up the pace.
“Won’t last long with the way you feel around my cock,” he panted as his hand left your clit again, robbing you once again of your orgasm.
Asshole.
By now, you felt like a desperate, whining mess beneath him, tears welling up in your eyes because you couldn’t take it any longer. But you had a feeling that begging was fruitless, so you just hid your face in the nape of his neck, a single tear running down your cheek.
“Don’t hide, darling,” he growled, that condescending tone almost enough to make you come as he was pounding into you with a merciless pace.
“Want to see your pretty face when you come for me,” and with that his hand was back on your clit, while the other grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him as your climax washed over you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his movements getting sloppier, until they came to a halt. But instead of feeling his cum inside of you, you felt empty, because he suddenly pulled out, lazily stroking his length as he looked at the lewd sight in front of him.
His cock glistened with your wetness, the same wetness that was running down your thighs, and it took all his self-control not to lick you clean until you came again, on his tongue this time.
“You’re gonna be a good girl?” he asked, his voice husky with arousal.
“Yes,” you answered, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper.
“Then get down on your knees for me.”
Hastily, you tried to steady yourself, your legs still a bit shaky from your climax as you got up from the desk, kneeling in front of him as he slid his cock over your plump lips. Greedily, you licked up the precum from his tip, causing Price to moan at the feeling of your tongue on him.
You wrapped your lips around him, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock, and you noticed how he tried to hold himself back from thrusting into your mouth; not that you would have a problem with that, but it was kind of cute.
A few more swirls of your tongue around his tip were all it took for him to come undone, his cock twitching in your mouth as his cum spilled down your throat. And like a good girl, you swallowed every last drop, licking his cock clean before you leaned back slightly, looking up at him with a blissed-out expression that almost got him hard again.
Before reality even set back in, Price was picking you up from the floor, sitting down with you in his lap. Wrapping you in his jacket that had been resting on the back of his chair, because he didn’t want you to freeze.
“I think we need a few more meetings to make sure you have enough input for your thesis,” he said with a smile as he stroked over your hair, kissing the mark he had left on your neck as soon as his eyes landed on it.
So much for the intention of not starting anything with one of his students. Well, it wasn’t his fault that you were probably the most angelic thing he had ever laid his eyes upon. Fate really worked in mysterious ways.
You were sitting there cuddled up for what felt like hours, sharing too many glasses of wine, talking as if you’ve known each other for years, occasionally interrupting your conversation with kisses because somehow Price couldn’t get enough of your lips.
It was only when your phone beeped repeatedly, your roommate asking if you got lost on the way home, that you realized how late it was. Reluctantly, you got up from his lap, and before you could once again awkwardly stand around, Price rushed to gather your clothes, helping you put them on. He closed the zipper of your skirt, giving your ass a soft squeeze before he pulled you close for another kiss. Already having a hard time letting you go, and he wasn’t sure if he could wait until the next lecture to see you again.