Chapter Thirty Seven

Tuesday;

I found myself once again trapped in Montgomery's office, hunched over a mountain of quizzes. My hand ached from hours of grading, the monotonous scribbling of my pen becoming unbearable. It felt endless, like she was deliberately burying me under this work.

I sighed in relief as I finished marking the last quiz, carefully stacking the papers and sliding them across her desk. Montgomery, however, didn't even glance my way before dropping another stack onto my already-crowded workspace. My mouth fell open in disbelief.

"You can't be serious," I muttered, staring at the fresh pile of quizzes. My patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't help but ask, "Are you punishing me for something?" I furrowed my brows, my voice tinged with frustration.

Montgomery's eyes finally lifted to meet mine, locking me in place with an intense gaze. A slow, wicked smirk curled across her lips. "Sweetheart," she said in a dangerously smooth voice, leaning back in her chair, "I do a different kind of punishing."

Her words sent a jolt through me, heat creeping up my neck. I swallowed hard, my heart skipping a beat as I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the papers. "Well, this feels like a punishment," I mumbled, hoping she didn't notice the blush spreading across my cheeks. "You've been handing me work one after the other, non-stop."

She raised an eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness that only added to the tension in the room. "You're my TA, aren't you?" Her voice was low and teasing, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

I bit my lip, torn between rolling my eyes in defiance or simply letting it go. After all, she was right—this was my job as her TA. Still, something about the way she commanded things made me want to push back.

"How good are you with computers?" she asked suddenly, her tone casual as her eyes flicked briefly toward me before returning to her screen.

"Uh, depends?" I answered with a shrug, not entirely sure what she needed.

Without another word, she motioned for me to come over to her side. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the desk as I made my way around. I leaned in, catching a glimpse of the issue on her screen. "Can you fix this?" she asked, her voice low, like she was testing me.

I nodded confidently, feeling her gaze linger on me as I got closer. "Yeah, I know what to do."

The scent of her perfume clung to the air between us as I focused on the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard, trying to ignore how close we were. Just when I thought I could focus, I felt her finger—light and teasing—tracing delicate patterns on my inner thigh. Even through my jeans, the touch sent a jolt through me. My body tensed, heart racing, but I forced myself to stay composed, unsure of how to react.

Before I could even gather my thoughts, a knock echoed from the door. My pulse quickened, thinking she'd pull away, but instead, Montgomery shifted subtly, her body now shielding her hand from view, keeping her finger where it was.

Lea's head popped in, her usual wide smile plastered on her face. "Dude, you should answer your phone," she said, stepping fully into the room. "Sup, Professor," she added with a casual wave to Montgomery.

I swallowed hard, forcing an apologetic smile. "Sorry, my phone's on mute," I replied, desperately trying to keep my voice steady while Montgomery's finger continued its slow, maddening path along my thigh.

"No biggie," Lea shrugged, oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's just Octavia's here and wants to see you."

The moment Lea mentioned Octavia, Montgomery's hand tightened its grip on my thigh, her nails pressing into my skin through my jeans. I had to bite my lip hard to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. The sudden surge of pain mixed with something more... electric.

"She's busy," Montgomery snapped, her tone sharp as her hand held me in place.

Lea raised her hands, backing off with a casual smile. "I never said she wasn't," she said with a shrug, her eyes flicking to mine briefly. "Just be quick." She turned and slipped out of the office, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me alone with Montgomery once again.

I forced myself to focus, finishing the issue on her computer as quickly as I could, my pulse still racing. As soon as I was done, I stepped away from her, escaping the weight of her touch. "I'll be quick," I muttered, heading for the door, eager to put some space between us.

Just as my fingers brushed the doorknob, her voice cut through the air like a blade. "Ms. Wilson," she said, her tone dark, teasing. I turned, and there she was, leaning back in her chair with a smirk that made my stomach flip. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you," she said, her words dripping with dangerous promise. "Now run along."

She waved me off as if I were a trivial thing, but the weight of her words lingered as I walked out, trying to steady my breathing.

I reached the fountain and immediately spotted Lea and Octavia, their contrasting figures standing out against the gentle splash of water behind them. Octavia's face lit up the moment she saw me, and before I could say anything, she jumped up, her movements full of energy. "Valentina!" she called out, beaming as she held out a small bouquet of flowers, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the dull campus surroundings. "These are for you."

Surprised, I accepted the flowers, admiring their soft petals and delicate fragrance. "These are beautiful," I smiled, genuinely touched. "Thank you."

Octavia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she clasped her hands together, her gaze not leaving mine. "Do you have any plans for tonight?" she asked eagerly. When I shook my head, she grinned even wider. "Do you want to grab dinner with me?"

"I'd love that!" I chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through me at her enthusiasm. "Just send me the details later."

She nodded, clearly pleased, and pulled me into a quick, warm hug. Her scent lingered as she stepped away, waving before walking off. I watched her go, a smile still tugging at my lips.

Lea, of course, wasted no time. She grabbed the flowers from my hands, inspecting them with a playful grin. "You finally moving on from Montgomery?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows in that way she always did when she was trying to pry.

I let out a long, tired sigh, my fingers grazing over the petals. "Honestly? I don't know." My voice was quieter, more vulnerable than I intended. "I keep thinking about her, but I'm trying my best."

It's true. No matter how hard I try to focus on moving forward, my thoughts keep circling back to Montgomery. It's like she's woven herself into my mind, threading through every moment I try to let go. I don't know if I should be worried about the power she holds over me... or if part of me enjoys it.

After a few more minutes with Lea, I said my goodbyes, the weight of the flowers in my hands grounding me as I made my way back to Montgomery's office. This time, I didn't even bother with knocking. I just pushed the door open, stepping in and closing it behind me with a soft click.

Her eyes snapped to me instantly, then shifted to the bouquet in my hands. I watched as her jaw tightened, the tension visible in the set of her mouth. "Flowers? Really? What, did she ask you out on a date?" Her tone was sharp, dripping with disdain as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," I shrugged, dropping into the chair in front of her desk, the flowers resting in my lap. "Tonight, actually." I tilted my head down to admire the blooms, trying to ignore the storm brewing in her gaze.

Montgomery's expression hardened, her eyes still fixed on the flowers like they were some kind of threat. "You're not going," she said, her voice firm and low.

My brows furrowed at her audacity, heat rising in my chest. "Yes, I am," I shot back, my tone just as firm. Who does she think she is, trying to control my life? The nerve of her, acting as if she had a say in what I did, who I spent time with.

Montgomery's movements were slow, deliberate, as she placed her palms flat on the desk and rose from her chair. The weight of her gaze pinned me in place, a predator locked onto its prey. "Ms. Wilson," she said, voice dripping with quiet authority, "You will not go on that date." Her words hung in the air, sharp and cold. "And if I find out you've disobeyed me," she added, leaning forward slightly, "I'll punish you... right here, in this office."

A shiver ran down my spine, but I tried to keep my expression neutral. "I don't think that will be necessary," I replied, though my voice sounded far less confident than I intended.

Without warning, she circled around me, her presence closing in until she stood directly behind my chair. I could feel the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume clinging to the air between us. Then, her hand slid onto the back of my neck, fingers curling ever so slightly into my hair. The touch was possessive, electric, sending a jolt of something dangerous through me.

"You don't realize how much control I have over you... do you?" she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. Her thumb pressed firmly against my skin, just enough to make my pulse quicken. "But you will," she promised, her voice soft but lethal.

With a sudden yank, she tore the flowers from my hands, the soft petals crushed in her grip before she tossed them into the trash like they were nothing. My stomach twisted at the casual cruelty of the act, but before I could react, she had already returned to her side of the desk, sitting back down, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

My hands shook as I reached for the stack of quizzes I was meant to mark, but the papers blurred in front of me. No matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting—back to her touch, her words, the way her gaze had locked onto mine with such intensity.

Each moment replayed in my head like a slow-motion reel. The way she had curled her fingers into my hair, her breath ghosting against my skin as she whispered threats and promises into my ear. The power she held over me in those brief moments made my pulse quicken, not out of fear but something far more confusing.

I felt powerless under her, completely at her mercy. And the strangest part? I liked it.

I swallowed hard, pushing the papers aside for a moment. That sensation, the way she made me feel—so small, so utterly submissive—was unlike anything I had experienced before. It wasn't just the physical control; it was how easily she commanded my thoughts, how effortlessly she pushed me to the edge of wanting more.

I leaned back in the chair, biting my lip as I fought the rush of emotions flooding my body. I shouldn't feel like this. I shouldn't want this. But I did.

And the terrifying part was knowing... I craved more.

✿

Wednesday;

Montgomery strode beside me, her presence commanding as always. I had been sitting at the fountain, waiting for Lea, but when Montgomery appeared and ordered me to follow her, I didn't dare argue. Her tone left no room for debate, and I found myself falling into step with her. As we rounded the corner, Lea emerged from the restroom, her face lighting up before quickly turning to disappointment.

"Dude," she said, frowning at me, "You never called me after the date!"

My stomach sank. Oh, crap. I could feel Montgomery's reaction without even looking—her head snapped towards me, her eyes narrowing with that familiar, dangerous glint.

Of course, I had gone on the date with Octavia. Why wouldn't I? It's my life, after all. Montgomery might have control over me in her office, but that didn't mean she had a say over what I did outside of it. I wasn't her girlfriend, and she had no right to act like she could dictate my choices. Still, the weight of her gaze made me uneasy.

Lea, of course, had no idea about the tension simmering just beneath the surface. If only she had kept her mouth shut, especially around Montgomery.

"I forgot, sorry!" I called back, trying to keep pace with Montgomery, whose steps had quickened. Her jaw was clenched tight, and I could almost feel her anger radiating off her in waves. "I'll give you the details later!" I added over my shoulder, hoping to get Lea out of the conversation as quickly as possible.

We reached her office, and Montgomery swiftly unlocked the door, pushing it open with an impatient flick of her wrist. I followed her in, my heart already pounding, and before I could even process what was happening, she slammed me against the wall. Her hand shot up to grip my throat, pinning me there, her body pressed firmly against mine.

Her fingers tightened around my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to make my pulse race in my ears. I gasped for air, my chest rising and falling quickly as she leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "You disobeyed me," she hissed, the words cutting like glass. Her grip tightened further, and I could barely breathe, yet the heat pooling between my legs made it clear how my body was reacting to her dominance.

"Do you enjoy making me jealous?" she asked, her voice quiet but lethal, the calmness in her tone only amplifying the intensity of her gaze. Her eyes burned with possessiveness, a fire that made it impossible to look away. "Because you're doing a damn good job of it."

"It's my life," I rasped, the words barely escaping my lips, but they were met with the sharp roll of her eyes. She leaned in closer, her lips grazing the shell of my ear as she whispered, "I don't care."

Her breath scorched my skin, sending a ripple of goosebumps down my arms, my body betraying me with every shiver. I tried to suppress the way I responded to her, but it was impossible. I could feel the heat rolling off her, commanding me in ways that left me breathless.

When I didn't reply, her frustration flared. Her grip around my throat tightened, her fingers digging in harder, as if she was determined to claim every inch of me. The sharp sting of her nails raked down my neck, trailing to my collarbone. I winced as I felt the skin break slightly under her relentless pressure, a faint throb pulsing where she had marked me. The pain didn't matter—it was secondary to the way my body craved more, the way it responded to every forceful touch she dealt.

My neck burned where her nails had grazed, a stinging reminder of her control. But I didn't care. I couldn't. The power she held over me was intoxicating.

"You'll learn to obey, Ms. Wilson," she said coolly, her voice a dark promise. Then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she let go, stepping back as though she hadn't just left me trembling against the wall. Her eyes traveled over me, lingering on the red lines she'd etched into my skin, a satisfied glint flashing across her face. She was admiring her work, the evidence of her possessive claim.

She spun on her heel, her movements sharp and commanding, heading to her desk with a purposeful stride. Without sparing me another glance, she grabbed a heavy stack of papers and unceremoniously dumped them on the desk in front of me. "Mark them," she ordered, her voice void of the heat it held moments before. Cold. Dismissive.

I stood there, frozen in place, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. My fingers trembled as they lifted to my throat, gently tracing the raw marks where her nails had dug into my skin. The sting was still fresh, the lines tingling under my touch, a physical reminder of her control—of how easily she could bend me to her will.

How on earth am I going to explain this? I thought, the weight of it all crashing down on me. I couldn't stay here. Not like this.

While her back was turned, I made my escape. My feet moved without me thinking, quiet against the floor as I slipped out of her office, closing the door softly behind me. Keeping my head down, I walked quickly, my heart still racing as I headed straight for the fountain, needing the cool air and distance between us.

Lea spotted me as soon as I approached the fountain, a grin spreading across her face. But the second her eyes landed on my neck, her smile vanished. Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Dudeeee..." she breathed, her voice low with shock. "Are my eyes seeing what my brain is telling them they're seeing?"

I collapsed onto the bench beside her, burying my face in my hands. "Yes," I muttered, before finally lifting my head to meet her gaze. Her eyes were glued to the angry red marks on my neck, studying them intently. "What the hell happened in there?" she asked, her voice edged with concern.

"Montgomery is what happened," I sighed, leaning back against the bench. The weight of the encounter pressed down on me as I recounted everything—the way Montgomery had forbidden me from going on the date, threatening to punish me if I disobeyed. How she found out from Lea that I'd gone anyway. And then, the moment I stepped into her office, how she'd slammed me against the wall, gripping my throat like she owned me. The way her nails had dug into my skin, scraping painfully down to my collarbone as she commanded me to obey her.

Lea's eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words. Finally, she threw her hands up in the air. "I—" she stopped, running a hand through her hair, "I'm sorry, but that is hot as fuck." She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm wet."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, though I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, it was hot," I admitted, feeling the flush creep up my neck again. "But how the hell am I supposed to explain this?" I gestured wildly to the red marks scarring my skin.

Lea paused, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, a mischievous smile slowly spread across her face. "Punch me in the face," she said, turning fully to me.

I blinked at her in disbelief. "What?" My voice was filled with confusion.

She rolled her eyes, clearly thinking I was missing the brilliance of her plan. "Punch me! Then you can tell everyone we got into a fight and I scratched your neck," she said with a grin, as if it were the most logical solution in the world.

I shook my head, laughing despite myself. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. No one would believe it."

Lea shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine, then just tell people you got dominated by a smoking hot woman." She wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

I shook my head again, leaning back against the bench. "Yeah, because that will go over really well," I said sarcastically, but inside, the thought of Montgomery's control over me lingered like a flame that just wouldn't die.

Is this really my life now? Being punished in ways that make my skin tingle every time I defy the invisible rules Montgomery has crafted around me? The thought stirred something deep inside, but it wasn't entirely comforting. What about Octavia? She actually seems to like me. To care. But with Montgomery, it's different—it's as if she owns every inch of my willpower, bending it, twisting it to fit her whims.

Does she even like me, or am I just a toy? A source of whatever pleasure or control she gets from pushing me to my limits?

The questions buzzed in my mind like a swarm of gnats, impossible to ignore. I needed to ask her. To confront Montgomery and finally understand what this is—if it's anything at all.

I had to get my answer, once and for all.