The Smell of Paint

5.

"I tried my best to add more, but my painting really doesn't need more."

Genevieve tries to keep a steady tone but ends up having a voice creak at the end.

The professor looks up from her painting, only to meet her eyes. He noticed her outfit when she first walked through the door. Having to hold himself back from not looking up and down at her curvy body.

Her skirt flares out, and the poor attempt to hide her chest with a jacket—didn't work so well. Christen couldn't hold back his questioning where the young girl will go.

She is a young college student, she can go anywhere. But something is tugging at his dominant side. He doesn't like that.

During Christen and Genevieves eye contact, She feels her breathing become missing. It is intense, Genevieve can't keep the contact— if she did, her mind will keep coming up with scenarios for later.

"Well, I am the one who has a degree in this field. Do you Miss. Genevieve?"

Just from his words, she knows she offended him. Classic manhood. She didn't mean to disrespect him— she just didn't have a clue what to do.

"I wanted to help you out but since you have no drive— you can take the grade I planned on giving you before."

Christen motions for her to leave his office. He has no sympathy for a student who doesn't think outside the box. And he definitely has no patience for her way of explaining herself. His dominance side is saying she has no proper training.

Genevieve feels her face run hot. She stands up, looking down at her professor. He mentally calls him a hot asshole. Hearing those words she finds herself not moving. In honesty, she doesn't want too. She wants him to look at her one last time.

Christen looks up to see Genevieve standing and not moving—he can tell she didn't like what he said. He doesn't care. With no hesitation, he stands up. Leaning forward on his desk, with sleeves to his black button up exposing his forearms.

"What is it Miss. Genevieve? Have something to say? If you do, I'm all ears."

Genevieve didn't really catch all he said. She was to busy staring at his arm veins. She can just imagine those arms holding her up against a wall—

"I'm waiting."

Genevieve's eyes dart to his. That's when she remembered. "Look I know it's the first day, I'm not trying to start off bad. Sorry for
disrupting your class today. But telling me I have no drive? That's crazy. So you can take my painting and give me the grade you think I so purposeful deserve."

Before Christen could say anything, Genevieve is already walking away. Christen isn't going to allow that kind of behavior.

With her head high she is close to his office door. She smiles feeling like a badass, but it fades away with the sound of the door being shut. She can feel that her Professor is standing behind her— never making any kind of contact with her body.

"That's not the proper way to say goodbye to your Professor"

Christen pauses and moves closer to her ear.

"Turn around, and try again."

Genevieve feels a shiver roll down her body. In the last hour her face has probably turned bright red a hundred times. She makes an attempt to move but can't. She not moving cause she wants to be a brat— her body is still trying to recover from him whispering in her ear.

"I don't repeat myself, Genevieve."

Christen's words give a hint of danger—including her name. Genevieve keeps repeating the word "Fuck" in her head as she can slowly turn towards her new Professor.

There is no way she is going to look at him in the eyes. She tells herself if she says sorry and a goodbye, she can leave without getting in trouble. The apology is forming and is ready to come out—Christen brakes the silence.

"Look at me"

"Fuck." She whispers but does as she is told.
Her eyes looks from the floor, up his legs, his leather belt, till she finally hit his eyes. Not to mention she enjoyed that view.

Christen heard what she said, finds it admirable to do that in front of a professor. He likes the sight of her taking her time looking at his body. If only she knew he is doing the same.

"Good"

Christen says in a harsh whisper tone. Genevieve gets chills throughout her body. She scolds her pussy for reacting to that. Being praised like that is such a turn on for her. She isn't ashamed of being a pain slut but there are past partners that looked at her different when she asked to be slapped across the face.

Christen notices how her body reacted to his appraisal. He smirks. But he has to stop himself from feeling anyway towards the dark haired beauty below him. That's until she opens her mouth.

"I will say goodbye but I won't apologize"

Genevieve is now testing to see how he reacts. Since she already pissed him off, why not push his buttons and have fun.

Christen doesn't take two seconds to think about what to do with her. He can see right through her games. Christen grabs the girl's shoulders and pushes her back against the door, only leaving tiny bit of space between them.

"Now what did you just tell me?"

Christen keeps his eyes on hers, as his hand leaves her shoulder to her jacket— slowly opening it. He decides to tease her some more, with leaning—

"Kitten, you won't ever talk to me like that again."

Christen holds onto every word so that Genevieve takes every second of his dominant voice.

"Do you understand me?"

Christen says as he lifts Genevieve's chin up so he can get a better view. Genevieve feels small at this moment. At point, she feels herself submitting to him fully. "Might as well enjoy it." God, she wants to see more of his dominant side. She wants him to grab her throat and make her talk with little to no air.

Genevieve's breathing begins to speed up as she looks up to her Professor. Christen sees her breathing patterns  and feels the aroma change to lust. He decides to make a important decision.

He wants nothing more to take the little brat over his knee and give her the punishment she deserves. But he needs consent. He is not about to hurt her when she doesn't want it. He has boundaries himself.

"Genevieve"

Christen says in a different type of tone— almost like a comforting one. Genevieve flinches at her name leaving his lips. She likes it a lot.

"I will only ask this right here, right now."

Genevieve has no idea what he is about to ask. Is he goings report her for her heavy ass lustful breathing? It is his fault for pushing her against his door.

"Are you sure you wanna cross over that bridge?"

Christen trails a finger over her open chest. Leaving goosebumps where his finger last touched.

Genevieve doesn't hesitate to give him a answer— she knows what she wants.

"Yes, Professor"