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The room was a disaster. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, mingled with shattered pieces of broken vases and half-empty bottles of alcohol. The sharp, incessant beeping of the alarm clock had filled the air for nearly twenty minutes before its owner finally stirred. A groan escaped her lips, low and pained, as she rolled onto her back, squinting against the assault of daylight that filtered through the curtains.
"Ugh, my head..." Orm muttered, pressing her palm to her forehead. The pounding behind her eyes reminded her all too well of last night’s excessive drinking. A hangover was a cruel punishment, but it wasn’t the only thing her body was protesting.
She attempted to sit up, the room spinning around her, only to collapse back onto the bed. Her legs were heavy, weak, like they didn’t belong to her anymore. “Fuck, I’m sore,” she hissed, the aftereffects of a wild party clinging to her like the rumpled sheets. She blinked at the ceiling, trying to recall the night, but it was fragmented—a blur of music, laughter, and bodies moving in the haze of alcohol. One thing was clear, though: she hadn’t come home alone.
With considerable effort, Orm finally managed to sit up, rubbing her temples before reaching for her phone. Her fingers fumbled with it before the screen lit up. “Past 9?!” Her eyes widened in panic. “Oh no, I have Saturday class!” she yelped, scrambling out of bed, wincing as her muscles protested every movement.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror was a disaster of its own—her hair a tangled mess, remnants of last night’s eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, trying to jolt herself awake. In her rush to clean up, she barely noticed the red marks on her neck and shoulders, faint yet unmistakable. They could easily be mistaken for allergies, but she knew better.
In less than twenty minutes, Orm had managed a sloppy cleanup—her dark-rimmed glasses perched crookedly on her nose, her clothes thrown on in a frenzy. There was no time to check if her hurried attempt at pulling herself together worked; she bolted out of the door, making a mad dash for class.
The hallways buzzed with students, and by the time she stumbled breathlessly into the classroom, her friend Kwang was already waving her over. "There you are, Orm! You’re late," she said with a teasing grin as Orm collapsed into the seat next to her.
"Tell me the professor’s not here yet," Orm panted, wiping sweat from her brow.
Kwang checked her watch, casually glancing around. "Lucky for you, they’re running late too. It’s already 10, so who knows when they’ll show up."
Orm leaned back in her chair, breathing a sigh of relief. "Wait, they?"
Kwang nodded. "Oh yeah, we have a new professor this semester. Didn’t you hear? The old guy resigned. Apparently, this one’s supposed to be pretty strict."
Orm barely had time to register the news, her head still buzzing from her rush. “Great,” she muttered. Her hand absentmindedly reached for her neck, wiping away some lingering sweat, when Kwang’s eyes widened slightly.
“Uh, Orm? That mark on your neck… please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”
Orm froze, heart skipping a beat. She pulled out a pocket mirror from her bag and glanced at her neck. There, scattered in faint red patches, were marks that looked nothing like allergies. Her stomach flipped. Who the hell was she with last night?
“Oh! These?” Orm laughed awkwardly, adjusting her glasses. “It’s just allergies. Flared up again, I guess.”
Kwang raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but before she could press further, the classroom door swung open with a click, and the air seemed to shift. A tall, striking woman stepped inside, her presence commanding without a word. She wore a perfectly tailored grey suit, her heels clicking against the floor as she strode confidently toward the front. The murmurs of the students grew louder as they recognized her as the new professor, but Orm could only stare, her breath catching in her throat.
There was something about the way the woman moved, her sharp features softened by the graceful tilt of her head... something incredibly familiar. And then it hit Orm like a fucking train.
—-- Friday Night—--
The club was buzzing with life, bodies swaying under the pulsing lights. Orm had needed this break—needed to escape the relentless pressure of school, the constant barrage of group projects and professors who seemed to single her out. Here, at least, she could lose herself, just for a night.
She sat at the bar, her fingers tapping lightly against the countertop. "A martini, please," she ordered, her voice drowned out by the music as the bartender set to work. Her gaze wandered to the dance floor, where the usual chaos unfolded—people dancing, laughing, grinding up against each other like it was the last night on earth.
That’s when she noticed her. Across the room, a woman in a white crop blazer stood out among the crowd, her elegant posture making her seem like she didn’t belong, yet she fit perfectly. Orm felt the woman’s gaze before their eyes even met, a subtle tension pulling between them. And when their eyes locked, it was like something clicked.
The woman began walking toward her, every step deliberate, her heels tapping against the floor in a rhythm that matched the beat of Orm’s racing heart. She was beautiful, with a confident stride that hinted at something deeper, something magnetic.
"May I sit beside you?" The woman's voice was low, sultry, with a hint of restraint that only added to her allure.
Orm’s breath caught for a moment. There was no way she could refuse. "Yes," she managed, her own voice betraying a hint of nervousness. As the woman sat, Orm couldn’t help but notice how the crisp white blazer fit her body, the way it hinted at toned muscles underneath. She was like a living contrast—controlled, yet undeniably sensual.
"Is it always this crazy in here?" the woman asked, her eyes scanning the club with casual detachment.
Orm chuckled softly, trying to shake off her nerves. "Depends on the night. It gets wilder the more drinks you have."
The woman smiled, a small curve of her lips that made Orm’s pulse quicken. "Good thing I’m pacing myself, then."
Orm laughed again, though her gaze drifted down to the woman’s hand as it casually rested on the counter, fingers brushing against the glass of her drink. There was something hypnotic about her presence, something that made it hard for Orm to think straight.
"I’m Orm, by the way," she finally said, the noise of the club fading slightly as their conversation became its own private bubble.
"Ling," the woman responded, her voice soft, but there was weight to it. The name suited her—sharp and smooth all at once. Orm couldn’t help but watch as the woman beside her shifted slightly in her seat, her movements deliberate and smooth. She noticed every detail—how the white blazer contrasted against her dark hair, the way her fingers curled elegantly around her vodka glass. When their eyes met again, Orm felt a spark, a pull that she couldn't ignore.
"And I have to say, you’re not making it easy for me to focus on my drink."
Ling chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. "Is that so?"
"Definitely," Orm said, eyes flicking again to Ling's blazer, imagining the firm muscles underneath it. She could imagine those arms easily pinning her down, and the thought sent a shiver through her."I feel like I should ask where you work out or something," she added playfully, though her curiosity was genuine. Ling had a strength about her that wasn’t just physical—it was the way she held herself, quiet confidence that intrigued Orm even more.
Ling tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "A bit of everything. I like to stay active," she said, taking a slow sip of her vodka, her gaze never leaving Orm’s face. "What about you? Besides...living on the edge, what keeps you busy?"
Orm laughed, the sound light despite the tension simmering between them. "College, mostly. Too many presentations and projects this week. Had to blow off some steam," she admitted, gesturing around the lively club. She watched Ling carefully, curious how much she was willing to share.
Ling nodded, understanding. "We all need an escape sometimes," she said, her voice soft but knowing. "You seemed like you needed one when I saw you."
Orm’s heart skipped a beat at that, at the idea that Ling had been watching her before they even spoke. "Guess I wasn’t hiding it well," she said with a grin, but her eyes held a question. "What about you? Why come up to me?"
Ling’s eyes narrowed slightly, her eyes traveled slowly over Orm, then back to her eyes, holding her gaze with an intensity that made Orm's stomach flip. She looked at her not in suspicion but in a way that seemed like she was considering her answer carefully. "You caught my attention," she said, her voice lowering just a fraction, her words deliberate. "There's something... interesting about you."
Orm felt her pulse quicken at Ling’s admission, the air between them thickening. "I could say the same about you," Orm shot back, feeling the subtle flirtation hanging between them like a thread, just waiting to be pulled.
Ling leaned in ever so slightly, her arm brushing against Orm’s as she set her glass down on the bar. "Then it seems we’re both in the right place tonight," she said, her voice smooth, almost teasing.
By now, Orm was on her fifth shot, and she was starting to feel the buzz in her veins. She didn’t even realize how comfortable she had become around Ling, how naturally the conversation flowed between them. She laughed softly, feeling bold, and leaned a little closer. "So, Ling," she said, drawing out the name as if testing how it felt on her lips, her fingers tracing the rim of her empty glass. "how often do you walk up to strangers in bars?"
Ling smiled, a slow, deliberate expression. "Only when they're worth it," she replied, her tone still calm but layered with something deeper.
Orm felt her breath hitch slightly at that, her eyes drawn to the way Ling’s fingers rested on the bar, so close to her own hand. "Well, I’m glad I passed whatever test you had," she said, her voice light but charged with something unspoken.
"You more than passed," Ling said, her voice barely above a whisper now, as if they were the only two people in the room.
Their proximity had shortened without Orm even realizing it, and suddenly, Ling’s hand was on her lap, her thumb gently tracing circles on the fabric of her skirt. The touch was light, almost absent-minded, but it sent a wave of heat through Orm, her stomach twisting in response.
"You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?" Orm managed to say, her voice slightly breathless now.
Ling’s eyes held hers, steady and focused, the subtle smile never leaving her lips. "Maybe," she said softly, "but I think you’re the one full of surprises tonight."
Orm bit her lip, her pulse quickening at the feel of Ling’s hand on her, the slow, teasing motion of her thumb. Her mind was spinning, both from the alcohol and the overwhelming attraction she felt towards this woman. She leaned in just a fraction more, feeling the tension between them reach its peak.
"You should come back to my place," Orm said, her voice low and laced with the desire she couldn’t hold back any longer.
Ling’s thumb stilled for just a moment, her eyes searching Orm’s face, as if to make sure she was serious. Then, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though her gaze was steady and intent.
Orm nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah. I’ve been sure since you walked up to me."
Ling’s smile deepened, and with a graceful movement, she finished her drink and stood, offering her hand to Orm. Orm took it without hesitation, feeling an electric thrill as their fingers intertwined. The warmth of Ling's hand sent another jolt through her body, anticipation buzzing in her veins.
"Lead the way," Ling said, her voice soft but commanding, and Orm couldn’t believe how fast her night had turned into something much more exciting.
—-- Fast Forward—--
“Welcome to my humble home,” Orm teased, her lips curling into a playful smile as she made a dramatic bow. The tension between them simmered, electric. Ling chuckled softly, the sound low and deep, her eyes following Orm’s every movement.
“Well then,” Ling replied, her voice steady but laced with anticipation, “it’s a pleasure to be here.”
Orm stepped forward, her fingers trailing along the edge of Ling’s blazer before gripping the fabric firmly, pulling their bodies close, their faces mere inches apart. Ling’s breath hitched as Orm leaned in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “You’ll have even more pleasure later,” she promised, her eyes flicking down to Ling’s lips, her gaze heavy with desire.
Ling swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise between them, an almost unbearable tension coiling inside her. She wanted Orm, now—her restraint slipping with every second. Her hand moved to Orm’s waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together, the warmth of Orm’s skin radiating through their clothes. “May I pleasure you, then?” Ling asked, her voice thick with need, the words lingering in the space between them.
Orm smirked, teasingly pushing Ling back just enough to create a sliver of space between them. “Hmm, I’ll think about it,” she teased, her tone light yet intoxicating. With a playful glint in her eye, she turned and walked into her home, leaving Ling to follow with a wide grin on her face, intrigued and aroused.
Ling stepped inside, her gaze falling on Orm, who was already holding a bottle of wine and two glasses, the dim lighting casting a soft glow over her figure. “Drinking, are we?” Ling asked, her eyes never leaving Orm’s form.
“Sit down on the couch,” Orm instructed, her voice firm yet tempting. Without hesitation, Ling obeyed, feeling a surge of curiosity at how effortlessly Orm had taken control of the moment. It made her pulse quicken. Orm smirked knowingly at Ling’s silent compliance as she opened the wine bottle and poured it into the glasses.
With a glass in each hand, Orm moved towards Ling, her stride slow and sensual. The way her hips swayed and the confidence in her movements sent a wave of heat through Ling. Without warning, Orm lowered herself onto Ling’s lap, her legs straddling her as she held out a glass.
“Here’s your drink,” Orm whispered, her lips brushing against Ling’s ear as she handed her the wine. Before Ling could respond, Orm took a sip from her own glass, then leaned in, cupping Ling’s face with one hand, and kissed her deeply.
The taste of wine and Orm’s lips mixed, creating a heady sensation that overwhelmed Ling’s senses. She let out a soft, guttural moan as her hands instinctively found Orm’s waist, fingers tracing slow circles along her skin. Orm shivered at the touch, knowing that her waist was her weak point, a place that made her knees buckle and her resolve slip.
Not one to give up control so easily, Orm deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding into Ling’s mouth, letting her taste both the wine and her at once. Ling responded in kind, her own tongue meeting Orm’s in a slow, deliberate dance. Her hands roamed, one creeping dangerously close to Orm’s chest, her fingertips brushing the edges of her top, teasing but not yet claiming.
Orm’s body trembled, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as the intensity grew. She clung to Ling’s shoulders for support, her mind clouded with desire, but when she began to feel lightheaded, she tapped Ling’s shoulder, breaking the kiss, gasping for air.
Ling pulled back, her eyes dark and filled with concern. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft as she caressed Orm’s flushed face, fingers brushing against her cheek in a gentle, soothing touch.
“Out…of…breath,” Orm managed to say between gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Ling chuckled quietly, the sound reverberating through Orm’s body, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you catch your breath,” Ling murmured with a smile before pressing her lips to Orm’s neck, trailing kisses down her skin. Orm’s breath hitched as Ling’s mouth moved lower, her lips ghosting over the sensitive spot between her shoulder and neck.
“May I leave a mark?” Ling whispered, her breath hot against Orm’s skin, before gently biting her earlobe.
“Y-yes,” Orm stammered, her voice shaky with anticipation. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, every inch of her skin hyper-aware of Ling’s proximity. When Ling heard the permission slip from Orm’s lips, she wasted no time, her mouth latching onto the tender skin at Orm’s neck, sucking hard. Orm moaned, her head falling back as she gave Ling full access, her entire body surrendering to the sensation.
Ling’s tongue traced the outline of the mark she had made, her hands gripping Orm’s waist tighter, pulling her even closer as Orm’s soft moans filled the air. Orm’s heart raced, her skin tingling with every kiss and bite. Ling’s mouth worked its way from Orm’s shoulder to her chin, then back to her lips, where she bit down gently on her lower lip.
Orm’s body trembled, the heat between them building, her own desire threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted nothing more than to tear off her clothes and let Ling continue, but something held her back. She wanted to savor this, to let the tension stretch a little longer.
“W-wait,” Orm moaned, her voice strained, her hands gripping Ling’s shoulders as she tried to catch her breath again. Ling groaned softly in frustration, biting down on Orm’s shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.
“Why wait?” Ling purred, her lips hovering over Orm’s once more, teasing her. “You know you want this.” She bit down on Orm’s lower lip, tugging lightly before releasing it, the pressure sending shivers down Orm’s spine.
Orm could feel the dampness between her thighs, her body aching for more, but she steadied herself, trying to regain a semblance of control. “I want to drink,” she said, her voice shaky but filled with playful defiance, her lips curling into a teasing smile.
Ling raised an eyebrow, her eyes dark with desire, but she pulled back slightly, allowing Orm to stand. “As you wish,” she said, her voice low, though the fire in her gaze promised that the wait wouldn’t last long.
Orm was still perched on Ling’s lap, her legs draped lazily over Ling's thighs, when she reached for the wine bottle. Without hesitation, she tilted it back, drinking straight from the bottle, letting the rich liquid slip past her lips in defiance of convention. A sly smile tugged at Ling’s lips as she leaned back into the couch, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She looked Orm over with an intensity that made the air between them hum.
“Ohhh, so that’s how it is,” Ling teased, her voice a blend of amusement and seduction. “You’re really looking to get drunk, aren’t you?”
Orm smirked, setting the bottle down with a deliberate motion. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” she said playfully, her tone daring Ling to guess.
Ling’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re gorgeous,” she said, her voice low, the sincerity of her words cutting through the playful banter. Her eyes locked onto Orm’s, heavy with a quiet longing that sent a shiver racing down Orm’s spine.
Caught in the pull of Ling’s gaze, Orm felt heat bloom beneath her skin. Loving the power of Ling’s attention, she began unbuttoning her top, deliberately slow, her fingers lingering on each button as though savoring the moment. Her eyes never left Ling’s, watching as Ling’s composure began to unravel, little by little.
When the third button came undone, revealing the soft curve of her cleavage, Ling’s throat bobbed with a visible gulp, her fingers tightening slightly on Orm’s waist. Her restraint was like a storm held back, ready to break free at any moment. Orm chuckled softly, leaning in just enough to let her breath ghost against Ling’s ear.
“My eyes are up here, darling,” Orm teased, grabbing Ling’s chin with gentle but firm fingers, guiding her back to meet her gaze. What she saw made her pulse spike—Ling’s dark, hungry eyes were alight with desire, her restraint fraying at the edges.
The tension snapped. Ling’s hand slipped to the back of Orm’s head, her fingers tangling in her hair as she pulled her in for a kiss, rough and unyielding. It was nothing like their first kiss—there was no teasing, no testing the waters. Ling was claiming her, and Orm surrendered willingly.
Orm opened her mouth to Ling’s probing tongue, letting herself be devoured, her thoughts dissolving in the heat of the kiss. Ling’s hands slid up her sides, one slipping over her chest with just enough pressure to make Orm’s breath hitch. Even through the fabric, the touch set her alight, her body arching instinctively into Ling’s palms.
Breaking the kiss, Ling’s lips traveled down Orm’s jaw to her neck, each kiss deliberate, each touch like a promise. The top Orm had been teasingly unbuttoning was swiftly discarded, her bra following suit before she even registered it. Ling’s lips were on her bare skin, her tongue tracing circles over her nipples while her other hand cupped and kneaded the other breast.
Orm moaned, her hips rolling involuntarily against Ling’s lap, seeking friction, seeking relief. Ling let out a guttural sound in response, her hands steadying Orm’s hips as she encouraged the movement.
“Ah, Ling—” Orm gasped, her voice breaking as she arched her back, giving Ling more access. Her hands found purchase in Ling’s hair, tugging slightly as a wave of pleasure surged through her.
Ling lifted her head just enough to murmur against Orm’s skin, her breath hot against her collarbone. “Yes, princess?”
Orm whimpered at the nickname, a fresh surge of heat coursing through her. She grabbed one of Ling’s hands and guided it between her thighs, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Please… touch me.”
Ling’s chuckle was deep and rich, a sound that only made Orm’s need intensify. “The princess begs,” she murmured, brushing her lips over Orm’s ear before biting down gently. “Who am I to refuse?”
Ling wasted no time, her hand slipping beneath Orm’s skirt. The heat she found there made her groan softly. “So wet,” Ling said, her voice dark and low, like a secret meant only for Orm. Her fingers moved skillfully, teasing Orm’s clit before sliding inside her with ease.
Orm cried out, her body trembling as Ling’s fingers curled and stroked inside her, each motion precise, deliberate, and maddeningly skilled. The rhythm was perfect—teasing, coaxing, building her up with every stroke. Her hands clutched at Ling’s shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of Ling’s blazer, as though grounding herself against the rising storm in her body.
“Right there,” Orm gasped, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper, as her hips instinctively moved in time with Ling’s thrusts. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure racing through her veins, building into a crescendo that was both overwhelming and irresistible.
Ling leaned forward, her breath hot against Orm’s neck as she pressed her lips to the delicate skin there. She kissed, sucked, and bit, leaving trails of heat that made Orm arch into her touch. “You’re incredible,” Ling murmured against her skin, her voice low and rough, the words vibrating against Orm’s sensitive flesh. “So responsive. So perfect.”
Orm could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond. Her body was taut with tension, coiled tightly as Ling drove her closer and closer to the edge. Ling’s free hand found its way to Orm’s back, sliding beneath her loosened blouse to press against her bare skin. The warmth of Ling’s touch was grounding, a steady anchor as her world tilted and spun.
Orm’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips as Ling’s lips moved lower, trailing kisses along her collarbone and down to the curve of her shoulder. Each kiss felt like a brand, igniting her skin, leaving her aching for more.
“Come for me,” Ling whispered, her lips brushing against the shell of Orm’s ear. The command was firm yet tender, a promise and a plea all at once.
The words shattered her. With a sharp cry, Orm came undone, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure rippled through her. Her hands fisted in Ling’s hair, her head falling forward to rest against Ling’s shoulder as she trembled, riding out the blissful aftershocks. Ling didn’t stop, her fingers slowing to a gentle rhythm, drawing out every last tremor, making sure Orm felt every moment of her release.
Ling held her through it all, her strong arms steadying Orm as she slumped forward, utterly spent. For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing—Orm’s coming in ragged gasps, while Ling’s remained steady, though tinged with the faintest hint of exertion.
Orm finally found her voice, weak and teasing as she muttered, “You beast.” She swatted at Ling’s chest, though the gesture lacked any real force.
Ling chuckled, the sound soft and rich, like velvet against Orm’s skin. “If I’m a beast,” she said, her tone playful yet filled with a dark promise, “then you’re my princess.” She cupped Orm’s face, tilting her chin up to meet her gaze, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It was sweet and unhurried, a stark contrast to the intensity that had just consumed them.
Orm sighed into the kiss, the tenderness making her heart flutter in a way that surprised her. But Ling wasn’t finished. As she pulled back, her fingers brushed against Orm’s cheek, her eyes dark and full of unspoken promises.
“One more?” Ling asked softly, though her gaze said she wouldn’t take no for an answer. The hunger simmering beneath her calm demeanor sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in Orm’s stomach.
Orm’s breath hitched, her body already yearning despite the lingering tremors of her recent release. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute, the single word carrying all the trust and desire she felt in that moment.
Ling’s smile widened, mischief dancing in her eyes as she shifted, pulling Orm closer until their bodies were flush against each other. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice dripping with affection and command. She pressed her lips to Orm’s once more, but this time there was no gentleness—just raw, unrestrained passion.
Ling’s hands roamed over Orm’s body, sliding down her back, tracing the curve of her hips, and gripping her thighs with a possessiveness that made Orm’s breath hitch. She lifted Orm effortlessly, turning so they were stretched out on the couch, Orm pinned beneath her.
The weight of Ling above her, the way their bodies aligned so perfectly, made Orm’s heart race. Ling’s lips left a fiery trail down her neck, her kisses and bites a tantalizing mix of pain and pleasure that sent shivers racing through Orm’s body.
“You’re addictive,” Ling murmured against her skin, her voice rough with need. “I could do this all night.”
Orm’s response was a breathless moan, her hands tangling in Ling’s hair as she pulled her closer. Ling’s fingers teased the edge of her skirt before slipping beneath, her touch igniting every nerve ending as she explored with deliberate slowness.
Orm arched into her touch, her body responding instinctively, her hips lifting to meet Ling’s hand. “Please,” she whimpered, the word slipping out unbidden, her voice thick with need.
Ling paused, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she lifted her head to meet Orm’s gaze. “Please what, princess?” she teased, her fingers brushing agonizingly close to where Orm needed her most but never quite giving in.
“Don’t tease,” Orm pleaded, her voice trembling. “I need you.”
Ling’s smile softened, though the hunger in her eyes only deepened. “As you wish,” she said, her voice low and reverent, as though Orm’s words were a command she was honored to follow.
And with that, she claimed Orm again, her touch confident, her movements unrelenting. Orm’s cries filled the room again as Ling’s fingers found her center with unerring accuracy, stroking her into a state of blissful surrender. Every touch, every kiss, was deliberate—Ling was relentless in her pursuit of Orm’s pleasure, her focus razor-sharp despite the fire burning in her own gaze.
Orm’s skirt was soon discarded, leaving her completely bare beneath Ling. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the most intoxicating way. Ling’s hands roamed her thighs, her touch firm but reverent, as though she were committing every inch of Orm’s skin to memory.
“You’re breathtaking,” Ling whispered, her voice low and husky, her eyes tracing Orm’s form with a mixture of awe and desire. The way she looked at her made Orm’s heart flutter, and for a moment, she felt like she was the only person in the world.
Orm reached for Ling, her fingers curling into the collar of her blazer. “Take this off,” she demanded softly, her voice carrying a newfound confidence. “I want to see you.”
Ling arched a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “Impatient, are we?” she teased, but she obliged, shrugging out of the blazer and letting it fall to the floor. Her white shirt followed shortly after, revealing a toned, athletic body that left Orm momentarily speechless.
“Just as I thought,” Orm murmured, her voice tinged with admiration as her eyes drank in the sight before her. “You’re perfect.”
Ling leaned down, her lips brushing against Orm’s ear. “You’re the perfect one, princess,” she murmured before pressing a kiss just below her ear, a spot that made Orm shiver.
Ling’s kisses trailed lower, her mouth exploring every curve of Orm’s body as if she were unraveling a mystery. She took her time, savoring each reaction, each gasp and moan that escaped Orm’s lips. Ling’s hands were steady, her touch confident as she traced patterns on Orm’s skin, her lips and tongue following suit.
Orm’s fingers tangled in Ling’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her to continue. “Ling… please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.
Ling paused, lifting her head to meet Orm’s gaze. Her eyes were dark, intense, and full of unspoken promises. “What do you want, princess?” she asked softly, her tone playful but edged with sincerity.
“You,” Orm breathed, her voice barely audible. “I want all of you.”
Ling’s expression softened for a moment, her lips curling into a gentle smile. “Then you’ll have me,” she said, her voice like a vow.
She descended again, her lips finding Orm’s in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with emotion, a silent declaration of the connection they were building, moment by moment.
As Ling continued her exploration, her fingers found their way back to Orm’s core, slipping inside with ease. Orm’s back arched off the couch, her body responding instinctively to the rhythm Ling set. Every thrust, every curl of Ling’s fingers, sent her spiraling higher, her body thrumming with an almost unbearable tension.
“Look at me,” Ling commanded softly, her voice grounding Orm even as her body soared.
Orm’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with Ling’s. The intensity in Ling’s eyes was mesmerizing, holding her captive as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.
“I’ll make you feel so good, baby.” Ling whispered, her voice a mix of affection and authority.
With a shattered cry, Orm came once again, her body trembling violently as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Ling held her through it, her fingers slowing but never stopping, coaxing every last tremor from Orm’s body.
When it was over, Orm lay boneless against the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Ling pressed a kiss to her forehead, her touch gentle as she brushed damp strands of hair away from Orm’s face.
“Still with me?” Ling teased, her voice warm and affectionate.
Orm let out a weak laugh, her lips curling into a tired but satisfied smile. “Barely,” she admitted, her voice hoarse.
Ling chuckled, the sound rumbling through her chest. “Good,” she said, her tone laced with playful mischief. “Because I’m not finished with you yet.”
Before Orm could respond, Ling scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against her chest as she stood. “Where’s your bedroom, princess?” she asked, her voice low and full of intent.
Orm pointed weakly toward the hallway, burying her face in the crook of Ling’s neck. The warmth of Ling’s skin, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, was comforting and intoxicating all at once.
As Ling carried her down the hall, Orm whispered, “You’re going to ruin me.”
Ling’s lips brushed against her temple, a soft kiss filled with promise. “Only in the best way, princess,” she murmured, her voice like velvet.
And as the door to the bedroom swung open, Orm knew that she was in for a night she would never forget.
—-- Present—--
For the entirety of the class, Orm was a mess. Her focus was scattered, her pen tapping aimlessly against her notebook, her gaze constantly straying to the front of the room where Ling— Professor Ling —stood in complete command. Her voice was steady, her gestures precise, her every movement exuding a confidence that made it impossible for Orm to look away.
But Orm wasn’t paying attention to the lecture. How could she? Every time Ling spoke, her rich, commanding tone reminded Orm of the night before—the way that same voice had dropped to a husky whisper against her ear, uttering things that made her knees weak.
Her mind replayed it all in vivid detail: the heat of Ling’s touch, the way her hands had moved with practiced certainty, the rough edges of her laugh as Orm had melted under her. And then there were the promises, spoken in between lingering kisses, about meeting again. Casual but charged, those words had left Orm both exhilarated and nervous.
Now, under the harsh fluorescent lights of the lecture hall, the contrast was stark. Ling was all business, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she spoke, but Orm couldn’t shake the memory of those same eyes darkened with desire, focused solely on her.
Her cheeks flushed hot as her mind wandered again. She shifted in her seat, attempting to look inconspicuous, but her movements only made Kwang, her seatmate, glance at her with a raised brow.
“Everything okay?” Kwang whispered, nudging Orm with her elbow.
Orm mumbled something incoherent, her eyes snapping back to her notebook. She tried to focus on the lecture, but the words blurred together, meaningless against the roaring distraction in her mind.
Finally, Ling’s voice cut through her haze. “That is all for today. You are now dismissed,” she said, her tone cool and professional, with none of the warmth Orm had grown accustomed to.
Relief and panic collided in Orm’s chest. She scrambled to pack her things, her hands fumbling as she shoved her notebook into her bag.
Kwang watched her with growing amusement. “What’s the rush? Got a hot date or something?”
Before Orm could stammer out an excuse, Ling’s voice came again, sharper this time.
“Orm? I have something to discuss with you. Could you stay for a moment?”
The air seemed to still. Orm froze, her heart lurching into her throat. This wasn’t the nervous excitement of last night; this was dread, pure and simple.
She glanced at Kwang, who looked thoroughly entertained. “What did you do to get the prof’s attention?” Kwang teased, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Spill later—I’ll wait for you outside.” With a grin, she bolted out of the classroom, leaving Orm alone with Ling.
The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. The measured click of Ling’s heels echoed in the empty classroom, each step drawing closer, each sound vibrating through the charged air. Orm’s heart pounded erratically, the rhythm too wild and uneven to ignore. Her breaths came shallow and fast, her chest rising and falling in anticipation of what she knew was coming.
Ling stopped just behind her, close enough for Orm to feel the warmth radiating from her presence. The faint scent of Ling’s perfume—a delicate blend of spice and sweetness—wrapped around Orm like an invisible tether, pulling her in even before Ling spoke.
“You do remember last night, don’t you?” Ling’s voice was low, husky, the kind of tone that seeped under Orm’s skin and lingered. It wasn’t a question, not really—it was a claim, a reminder that had Orm’s stomach flipping.
Orm’s fingers clenched the edge of her desk, her gaze fixed downward as if the woodgrain could somehow ground her. “Y-yes,” she stammered, her voice barely audible, as though speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile tension between them.
Ling stepped closer, the heat of her presence folding over Orm like a shadow. Gentle, deliberate hands settled lightly on Orm’s waist, their touch warm yet electric. Orm’s body betrayed her immediately, her breath hitching as a shiver rippled through her.
“You seemed so confident last night,” Ling murmured, her breath brushing against the sensitive skin of Orm’s ear. “But now you’re trembling. Are you nervous, princess?”
The word princess sent a jolt down Orm’s spine. Her knees wobbled, and she gripped the desk harder, the cool edge digging into her palms. “I… I wasn’t expecting this,” she admitted, her voice trembling as much as her body.
Ling’s soft chuckle was a low, intoxicating hum against Orm’s skin. “Relax,” she purred, her tone laced with dangerous gentleness. Ling’s hands began to move, slow and deliberate, sliding around to rest lightly on Orm’s stomach. Her fingers brushed teasingly against the hem of Orm’s shirt, a barely-there touch that set Orm’s nerves alight.
“I just wanted to check,” Ling continued, her voice like silk trailing over Orm’s senses, “if you’re still interested in what we talked about.”
Orm’s mind was a chaotic whirlwind, struggling to piece together coherent thoughts as memories of last night surged forward. “You mean…”
Ling’s lips brushed against the shell of Orm’s ear, her voice dipping even lower. “Meeting up again. No strings, just us. Whenever you want, wherever you want.”
The simplicity of the words belied the weight they carried. Ling’s touch pressed slightly firmer, pulling Orm closer until her back barely brushed Ling’s front. The heat between them was undeniable, crackling like a live wire.
Orm’s senses were overwhelmed. The warmth of Ling’s hands, the intoxicating scent of her perfume, the way her voice seemed to wrap around Orm’s very thoughts—it was all too much.
“I…” Orm faltered, her lips parting, but her voice caught in her throat. The rational part of her mind struggled to surface, to find words, but it was drowned out by the pull of Ling’s presence.
Sensing the hesitation, Ling pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Orm’s temple. The gesture was disarming, tender but charged, a promise whispered without words. “Take your time,” Ling murmured, her fingers beginning to trace slow, teasing circles along Orm’s waist. “But don’t take too long. I might get impatient.”
Orm turned her head slightly, enough to meet Ling’s gaze. Those dark, smoldering eyes held her captive, full of quiet intensity and mischief that made Orm’s resolve crumble. “You’re not making this easy,” Orm whispered, her voice breathless.
Ling smirked, the corner of her mouth curving with predatory ease. “Wasn’t planning to.” Her fingers traveled upward, brushing against Orm’s jaw with a featherlight touch. Tilting Orm’s chin upward, Ling locked their gazes. “So? What’s it going to be?”
Orm exhaled shakily, her chest tightening under the weight of the moment. Her defenses were gone, swept away by the sheer force of Ling’s presence. She nodded, her lips parting as if to speak, though no words came.
Ling’s smile widened, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Good girl,” she murmured, her thumb brushing over Orm’s lower lip in a gesture that was equal parts tender and possessive. “I’ll text you later.”
Stepping back, Ling’s absence was immediate and profound, leaving Orm swaying slightly as if untethered. She turned, watching Ling gather her things with effortless composure, as if the exchange had cost her nothing.
Before she reached the door, Ling paused, glancing over her shoulder. Her gaze lingered on Orm, smoldering with a promise that sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her. “See you soon, princess.”
And then she was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
Orm slumped into her seat, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. Her body still tingled, every nerve ending attuned to where Ling had touched her. One thing was painfully clear—she was in deep, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to get out.