Chapter 484: Professor Lovett

They tumbled onto the soft duvet, a tangle of limbs and frantic energy.

He yanked at her skirt and knickers, pulling them down her legs in one rough, desperate motion. She kicked them away, her body now bare and open to him, glowing in the golden light. He stood just long enough to shed his own clothes, his eyes devouring her as she lay sprawled across the bed, her hair a mess of red waves around her, her skin flushed a delicious pink.

He was on her in an instant, settling his weight between her thighs.

He could feel her heat, the wetness already slick against his stomach. He positioned himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against her. He looked down into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own raw hunger.

"I can’t bear to stay away from you."

Her answer was a throaty, guttural sound that was nothing like the composed woman who read him bedtime stories.

"I missed you so much, you beautiful, mad boy."

"Now fuck me!"

He drove into her in one deep, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

Diana’s back arched off the bed, a scream tearing from her throat that was half pain, half pure, unadulterated ecstasy. She was so tight, so impossibly hot and wet around him, it was like being swallowed by a living flame.

"Yes!" she shrieked, her nails raking down his back.

"Oh, gods, yes!"

Jaegar began to move, setting a punishing rhythm from the very start.

There was no gentle buildup, no slow exploration. He pounded into her with a ferocity that matched her own, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they reached the peak of their passion. The room was filled with the sounds of their shared ecstasy, a work of desire that echoed off the walls.

Each thrust was a punctuation mark in a sentence they’d been writing since he was a boy. Her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in, pulling him deeper with every snap of his hips.

The bed rocked against the wall, the headboard thumping a steady, frantic beat.

Diana was unraveling beneath him, her prim and proper exterior shattered completely. Her cries were unfiltered, raw, and filthy.

"Harder! Don’t you hold back on me, Jaegar! Give it all to me!"

He grunted, slamming into her, his own pleasure coiling tight in his gut. "You feel that, Momma? That’s all for you. Every fucking inch."

The vulgarity tipped her over the edge.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her entire body seized around him. Her inner muscles clenched and fluttered around his cock in a violent, rhythmic wave. Her scream was long and wordless, a pure release of sensation that seemed to shake the very foundations of the old house.

The intense, milking pressure of her climax was too much for him.

With a final, guttural roar, he plunged deep and stilled, his own release crashing over him.

He spilled into her, pulse after hot, endless pulse, his body shuddering with the force of it.

He collapsed on top of her, spent, his face buried in the sweaty hollow of her neck. Their ragged breaths were the only sound in the room, slowly syncing as the aftershocks faded.

Outside the room, Meridith was breathing harder, her face was red, her cheeks were flushed hot, she was leaning against the wall, her body was hot all over, and she heard the entire sexcapade in the room. After all, Diana wasn’t moaning; she was screaming pleasure, which resonated throughout the house.

She slowly retreated her steps back to the kitchen.

***

Dawn broke beneath a ceiling of brooding clouds, and the rain hung heavy on the ancient beams, each droplet a ghostly veil that slid down into the ground. The forest, near the academy, stood cloaked in shadow, its canopy woven tight, a maze of dripping branches that tangled sky and soil in a damp, living shroud.

Miles from the farmhouse, where chimney smoke would soon curl into the dawn sky, lay a sanctuary hidden from the world of mortals—a place where arcane dwelt as naturally as the morning dew upon spider’s silk.

The estate emerged from the forest’s embrace like something born of dreams and shadow. Towering bamboo groves formed a natural palisade around the estate, their hollow stems whispering ancient secrets with each breath of wind. The stalks, some as thick as a man’s waist, rose thirty feet into the air, creating walls that swayed with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

Between their jade columns, glimpses of weathered stone and wrought iron could be seen, hinting at the architectural marvel that lay within.

The estate looked damp and hadn’t been cleaned for centuries.

The estate itself was a testament to the union of nature and human craft.

Built of honey-colored limestone quarried from the distant Cairn Mountains, its Gothic revival architecture bore the hallmarks of the current age, yet possessed an otherworldly quality that spoke of older magics.

Elaborate spires pierced the canopy above, their copper weathervanes shaped like mythical creatures rather than common roosters.

Gargoyles perched on every corner, their stone eyes seeming to track movement below with supernatural awareness.

What truly set this dwelling apart from any estate house in the city or the countryside was the living tapestry that adorned its walls.

Ancient ivy, thick as ship’s rope, wound around every surface in intricate patterns that seemed almost deliberate in their design. The vines pulsed with a faint luminescence in the pre-dawn hours, their leaves shifting from deep emerald to silver in the changing light. Flowers bloomed among the greenery—not the simple roses or jasmine one might expect, but blossoms of impossible colors: azure petals that glowed like captured starlight, crimson flowers that whispered in voices too soft to understand, and pale golden blooms that chimed like distant bells when touched by the breeze.

Behind the estate, a crystal-clear stream carved its way through the forest floor, its waters singing an endless song as they danced over smooth river stones.

The rain continued to pour in little showers.