Same Routine

Mazikeen POV

The last few days have been weird; King has ensured he has the seat directly opposite me. Of all the places he could sit, he sits there.

I’ve tried to avoid looking at him, but it’s hard with him so close. Many of the professors complain about him and say he shouldn’t be here.

If there is one thing I have learned about King this week, it is that he is smart. He flirts like hell with me slyly, but he belongs here. Every day, when he comes into class, he takes that seat and smiles at me. After class, he lingers for a while, making an excuse to talk to me.

When he does, he leans in close.

“Mazikeen!” Edward’s voice snaps me out of my daydream. “What has got into you this week? Your ring will be ready for collection in about a week. It was fixed,” he says.

“Thank you, Edward. I’m sorry for zoning out,” I smile at him. We had food in a restaurant and are now sitting in a quiet bar. It’s different from how we usually spend our anniversaries, but something tells me tonight will be like every other night.

“What is the plan for after here, Edward?” I ask.

“Home, I need to get sleep for tomorrow,” he explains, and I nod.

“I might go to the shops and grab stuff for tea tomorrow,” I say. It’s a lie, but the idea of going home to sleep just fills me with hate.

“That’s fine, but don’t take too long or be too late, okay?” he asks, and I nod. I watch him walk out. Getting up, I go to the bar and order a drink. I’m getting weird looks for ordering wine, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever drunk.

I’ve no idea about what other drinks there are that I may like. I give up after one drink. It’s pointless sitting here alone. I’m still going to go home to the same routine anyway.

Stepping outside, a body steps in front of me. Glancing up, I see King.

“Hey, professor,” he smirks down at me.

“King,” I say and go to move, but his hand stops me.

“Where you goin’?” His head tilts and his lip kicks up slightly.

“Home,” I reply.

“How ’bout a ride?” He smirked at me, and my eyes widened. “On a bike, Miss, not me.” His smile widens. God, this guy.

“That would have to be a no, King,” I reply.

“Why?”

Why? “King, I’m your professor. It’s highly inappropriate. Secondly, I don’t do bikes,” I explain.

“It’s a ride, nothin’ more to cause an uproar. Ya bein’ on a bike before then?” He leans into me.

“Never,” I reply.

“Then how’d you ’now it’s not for you?” His head tilts.

“King, do I look like someone who does bikes?” I point down at myself, and his tongue darts across his lips as he looks at me.

“Think it’s sexy as hell, Miss,” he leans closer.

“That is a blatant lie, King. What I am wearing is far from sexy,” I laugh, and he grins.

“It is Miss, shows a small bit but promises the entire body once uncovered. Makes me want to know what else is hidden,” his words are whispered, and my body shakes.

“A ride, then if you don’t like, I’ll give up,” he breathes his words into my ear.

“Fine,” I give in, he steps back and grins, I watch as he walks to the bike. He swings his leg over it so damn easy. His finger beckons me over, and my eyes glance around.

This is foolish, but when will I ever get a chance to be on a bike? Walking over to him, I look at the bike.

“Hop on, make sure you’re grippin’ me tight,” he says. I move and swing my leg over, surprised when I manage it. I sit on the pillion, and my hands grab his waist.

He chuckles and grips my hands, pulling them around him so my body is flush against his back. My skirt is up, which means the only thing between him and my pussy is my lace underwear and his t-shirt.

His hand grips mine, and he moves them down.

“Hold onto the handle if you get scared,” he jokes, pushing my hand against his cock, as he starts the bike. I clamp my eyes closed as I feel it begin to move.

Slowly, I open my eyes and watch. It’s amazing except for the corners, which have me grasping ‘his handle’ as hard as the bike tilts.

I feel the rumble of his laughter against my chest each time until, slowly, I stop panicking at the corners. I keep trying to move my hands away from his cock, but I can’t. While it’s amazing, I’m still petrified deep inside, which stops me from moving any part of my body in case I cause the bike to sway.

Me calling him a boy clearly isn’t a good representation of his manhood. Even from the feel above his jeans, I can tell it’s big. I’m unsure of how long he is riding us around before he stops outside a building. My hands stay clamped on him.

“Could get used to this, Miss,” he taunts. I watch as he climbs off the bike, his arm wrapping around my waist. “Warning, ya might be unsteady on ya feet after having something so big and dangerous between ya legs,” his words cause me to laugh.

“You’re such a perv,” I argue, and he lifts me from the bike.

“’old on,” he says, and I ignore him, instantly regretting it. My legs wobble, and his arm wraps around my waist to pull me against him. I didn’t even realise how they felt until I tried to stand.

“Get used to it the more you’re on a bike. Want a drink?” he asks but keeps his arm around my waist and leads me into the bar. I didn’t get a chance to answer, which I’m grateful for. Right now, I’m trying not to think about Edward or me being married, or that King is my fucking student.