"My soul will find yours."

- Jude Deveraux

. . .

I sneaked into the room, sitting on a seat in the very back.

Ashton was standing in front of the darkened classroom. Everyone was looking at him, listening to every word as he spoke. His glasses glinted as his hands motioned towards the board, his lips moving as he explained whatever it was that he was explaining.

"And," he said. "The most fascinating thing about the behaviour of space is-"

My eyes travelled his body, the way his white shirt stuck to his torso, some buttons undone and his black trousers making his ass look really good. His one hand was in his pocket and on the other, his rings glinted.

Strands of his blond hair brushed on his nose. I smiled at how passionate he sounded.

The class ended soon and people started leaving. I kept seated.

Soon, the class was empty.

He looked up at me, a smile coming on his lips. "You need to stop sneaking into my classes, little one. You're not in Yale."

I got off my seat. "I would have gotten in if I tried." I walked towards him. He chuckled at my words.

"Sure."

My eyes narrowed as I reached him. "Rude."

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his body. "You know how rude I am," he murmured. "Did you understand anything in the lecture?"

"No, professor," I said. "You're a bad teacher."

"Or..." He grabbed my neck, choking me slightly and then chuckling when my eyes winded. "You're just a naughty little student who gets her pussy so wet looking at her professor that she can't understand a word."

I gulped. His dark eyes travelled up and down my body. "Look at that little skirt," he muttered. "God, Little one, are you trying to kill me?"

He let go of my neck and lifted me off the ground, putting me on his desk. He put his hand on my thigh, sneaking it inside my panties and letting out a mocking chuckle when he felt how wet I was. "My desperate whore."

He tugged on the string of the vibrator, eyes darkening as I whimpered. They rarely let me out of the house without a vibrator inside my pussy or a plug in my ass. A reminder of who you belong to, they called it.

"Did Xerxes or Zavier turn this on yet?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No."

His jaw hardened.

"No, d-daddy," I whispered, correcting myself.

He took his fingers away, making me whimper. "P-"

"Not a word."

He took his phone out. "I thought I'd be nice today. But..." He tapped on his screen. The vibrator came to life, making me whimper loudly at the strong vibration. I hated the damn thing yet I felt empty without it.

"Come on."

He helped me off the table. My legs were shaking.

He kissed my forehead. "Let's go."

. . .

Zavier sat my trembling body on his lap, chuckling as clutched to him, blinking up at him. His dark eyes were filled with amusement. His black hair had grown out, now brushing a little on his collar his tattoos peeked up from.

"Which number are you on right now?"

"I...I don't know, daddy." I whimpered as I felt myself getting close to another release.

"Really?" He grabbed my jaw. "What kind of a filthy whore does not keep track of her orgasms? Don't tell me the vibrator has turned my good little girl bad."

I whimpered. "So close, daddy."

He turned the vibrator off. "Keep track, kitten. I'll punish you if you don't."

I nodded, breathing heaving as I set my forehead against his shoulder. "I-Its hard, daddy."

"I know," he murmured. "But you have to be a good girl, don't you?"

I nodded, cuddling closer to him. "Can you take it ou-"

"No."

"Mean."

I calmed down in a few minutes. "Where are we going, Zavier?" I asked when I realized we were not going home.

"I have a meeting," he said. "You're coming with me so that I don't fuck anyone up."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I am... me?" He kissed my lips. "Just hold my hand there."

. . .

Zavier's knee kept bouncing as the woman spoke. She was professional, keeping a straight face. 

Tamara was her name. Tamara Williams. She was beautiful with glassy skin Korean people were famous for. It seemed as if she had inherited only her thick black curls from her father, the rest was of her mother.

I knew about the Williams. It was hard not to.

The meeting ended soon. I could see the relief in Zavier's eyes when Tamara walked out. He sighed and leaned back into his giant chair, closing his eyes. "I fucking hate business."

"Why didn't Xerxes do this meeting?"

He shrugged. "He had another meeting."

"Oh." I looked out of the window of the office, at the city spread out. "I...I wanted to talk to you three today."

I could feel his eyes on me. "About?"

"You'll find out..." I forced on a cheeky grin.

He didn't smile. His dark eyes searched mine as if he was shuffling through a box of my secrets. They could read me so well. "Okay," he said. "At dinner, then.'

I nodded. "At dinner."

At dinner, I'd tell them.

. . .

Xerxes set up a table in the garden as Zavier barbecued and Ashton bought out four chairs.

"Baby," Zavier called out to me. I was leaning against a wall, watching the three of them, wondering if what I was going to say was worth it. "It's done. Come on."

I walked to the table, sitting down on a chair.

"So..." I trailed off as they set up the food. They rarely let me do anything.

Xerxes hummed, looking down at me. His hair had grown too. It was up in a bun right now with his glasses on his strong nose. Dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt like his brothers, he still looked ready to take over the world.

"What did you want to talk about?" Zavier asked as they finally sat down. Xerxes beside me and Ashton and Zavier across from us.

"It's..." I hesitated. "It's about Paris."

. . .