Chapter 295: Cockblocked: Sneaky Amber (r-18)

Phei lifted her effortlessly off where she was—hands firm under her thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh just below the curve of her ass—and shifting her down on the edge of the long teacher’s table now with a controlled thud.

Papers scattered in a chaotic flutter; a coffee mug tipped precariously but didn’t fall.

Patricia’s skirt was already rucked high from earlier; he finished the job in one smooth, brutal pull—bunching the fabric around her waist like a belt, exposing more of the black lace thong soaked dark at the crotch, the thin material clinging transparently to her

swollen lips

, outlining every puffy fold and the

engorged clit

pressing against it.

He stepped between her legs and

spread them wider

—

knees hooked over his forearms

, opening her completely. The thong clung obscenely—

t

ranslucent with arousal, a thick, clear strand of wetness stretching between the lace and her puffy folds when he tugged it aside just enough to expose her.

Her pussy glistened under the amber light—

lips parted and flushed deep rose, inner folds dark pink and slick-shiny, clit swollen fat and throbbing

at the top of her

slit, entrance fluttering

with every shallow breath.

Slick coated the crease of her thighs and pooled beneath her on the polished wood, a small, dark puddle already forming.

He leaned in slow.

His nose brushed the damp lace first—

then lower, dragging along the slick inner thigh where her arousal had trickled

. He inhaled deeply, deliberately—

nose pressed to the soft skin just beside her pussy, breathing her in like fine wine

.

The scent hit him—

musky, sweet, desperate

—and he groaned low against her flesh, the sound vibrating straight into her core.

Patricia felt it instantly:

the warm rush of his exhale, the low rumble of that groan, the sheer intimacy of him smelling her need

.

Her hips

jerked;

a broken moan slipped out—

high, fractured

.

"Gods—Phei—"

He didn’t answer with words.

His mouth found the inside of her right thigh first—open, hungry kisses, slow drags of tongue tasting the salt and sweetness that had leaked there. He kneaded her left thigh with one big hand—

fingers digging into the soft muscle, spreading her wider—

while his other palm slid under her

ass,

lifting her slightly so he could reach deeper.

He sucked a slow, dark bruise into the tender skin of her thigh—lips sealing tight, pulling the flesh into his mouth, tongue laving the spot afterward in wet circles—then moved higher—

kissing, licking, nipping

—working his way inward inch by torturous inch.

Patricia’s hands flew to his hair—fingers threading tight, tugging hard without meaning to. "Please—

fuck

—please—"

He hummed against her skin—the

vibration

traveling

straight to her clit

like a live wire.

His tongue traced the crease where thigh met pussy—

long, flat strokes

that skirted her pussy lips without touching them yet—while his hand on her ass kneaded harder, thumb brushing the lower curve of one cheek, then dipping into the cleft just enough to tease the tight pucker of her asshole.

She moaned louder—

high, fractured

—hips rolling up, chasing his mouth, thighs trembling violently around his shoulders.

He went deeper.

Lips grazed the outer edge of her folds—

soft, reverent

—then his tongue followed, a single slow lick along one swollen lip, tasting the slick that coated her.

Patricia’s head fell back on a long,

keening

moan—

eyes fluttering shut

, one hand still fisted in his hair while the other braced on the table behind her. Her thighs trembled harder; more wetness leaked out, dripping onto his chin in thick drops.

Then her eyes snapped open—

wide, panicked

.

Through the

half-lowered

blinds of the classroom window, amber light framed a figure.

Amber.

Standing frozen on the other side of the glass

—one hand pressed to the pane, the other massaging slow circles over her own breast through her blouse, lips parted, eyes locked on the scene inside.

Shock painted her face—then heat, then something

darker, hungrier

.

Patricia’s entire body locked.

The world tilted.

She shoved at Phei’s shoulders—

hard, frantic

—pushing him back even as her thighs tried to clamp around him.

"Stop—

stop

—oh God—" Her voice cracked, high and terrified. She scrambled off the table—legs shaking, skirt falling crookedly, yanking it down with trembling hands, buttoning her blouse with fingers that wouldn’t cooperate.

Papers crunched under her shoes; a pen rolled off the edge and clattered to the floor.

Her chest heaved. Vision tunneled.

Everything she’d built—

career, reputation, the quiet life she’d told herself was enough

—cracked open in one blinding instant.

Amber had seen.

Amber knew.

The girl could tell anyone. The school board.

The principal. Her parents. The police.

She was finished.

Phei didn’t need to turn around to know what had happened.

He rose smoothly—shirt already hanging open from earlier damage, chest still flushed from her mouth.

When Patricia tried to shove past him toward the door—

wild-eyed, tears starting

—he caught her gently but firmly around the waist and pulled her back against him.

"Hey. Hey. Het,"

he whispered into her hair, arms banding around her middle, holding her when she tried to twist away.

"Hey. Breathe. I’ve got this."

She shook her head violently—

voice cracking

. "You don’t—you don’t understand—she saw—she saw—"

"I know what she saw." His lips brushed her temple. Calm. Certain. "And I’m going to fix it. Trust me."

Patricia’s knees buckled; he held her up without effort.

He kissed her once she did not resist even though they’d been seen—

soft, steady, right on the mouth

—then released her. He buttoned what was left of his ruined shirt (two buttons missing, fabric gaping), ran a hand through his hair, and walked to the door without hesitation.

Whoever had seen them wasn’t far.

He stepped out fast—

long strides eating the hallway

—leaving Patricia frozen behind the desk, skirt crooked, blouse misbuttoned, tears streaking her cheeks, listening to his footsteps fade toward the figure still visible through the window.

The classroom was suddenly very quiet.

And very empty.