DON’T STOP (Lila and Darrell) novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Darrell

I watched Bella through the half-open blinds, that slow, almost hesitant sway in her firps as she crossed the courtyard towar my private wing of the faculty residence. The wide-brimmed hat shielded raost of her face, but I could still make out the nervous way she kept glancing left and right, like she expected someone to jurap out and call her name Sunglasses peniten on her nose even though the late-afternoon sun was already dipping behind the palms. Cute Einsperate. Delicious.

The knock came softer than I expected-three quick taps, polite, almost apologetic.

I let her wait a full ten seconds before I crossed the room and pulled the door open

She slipped inside fast, like she was afraid the hallway cameras might catch her silhouette. The hat came off in one motion; dark curls tumbled free, and she raked shaky fingers through them, trying to look composed. Her lips were glossy, freshly reapplied. Lipstick was the color of ripe plums. I noticed because my eyes always found her mouth first.

“So….you said you had something to discuss,” she started, voice pitched too high, too bright.

Then, without another word, she dropped.

Right there on my hardwood floor, knees hitting with a soft thud that echoed louder in my head than it probably did in the room. Her palms flattened on her thighs, back straight, chin tilted just enough to meet my gaze through those ridiculous oversized shades she still hadn’t taken off.

My cock twitched behind my slacks before my brain even caught up.

“What are you doing?” The question came out rougher than I intended.

She blinked up at me, eyes glassy.

“Wanna give you a blowjob… or what?” I asked, teasingly, the words slipping out low and edged with dark amusement,

“If you want,” she said quickly, like she was offering me coffee instead of her mouth. No tremor in her voice now. Just flat. eerie calm.

That was when the alarm bells finally drowned out the blood rushing south.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

I crouched slowly so we were eye-level. “What is it, Bella?”

Her throat worked on a hard swallow. The glassy sheen in her eyes thickened into something wetter. “Please… I’m begging you, just give me one more shot. Can you please help me pass this class? This scholarship is literally everything to me- can’t lose it.”

The plea cracked at the end. She looked small suddenly-smaller than she ever had in my lecture hall, smaller than when she’d sat front row biting the cap of her pen and pretending she didn’t notice me watching her legs cross and uncross.

I straightened and turned toward the window so she wouldn’t see whatever expression was twisting my face. Outside, the campus was quiet, golden hour bleeding into dusk. Inside, the air felt too thick.

“Please, Darrell,” she whispered again. The word sounded wet. She was crying now, or close to it.

I turned back.

1/3

enter

Sty Term Obat antwy

Iles the silence stretch just long enough to make her squirm, “I am your professo M. Blak

Miss Sunday. You should refer to me at

“Yes. Mr. Black The correction came instantly, her voice trembling to the edges. “I apoloniz

I folded my arms across my chest, the crisp white cotton-pulling tight over ray shoulders. She might tell her what came next

arked the motion like it

“Are you insinuating that I tampered with your result?” My tone stayed soft, almost gentle. Dangerous.

Her eyes flew wide. Head shaking so fast the curls bounced. “No! Not at all. I’m just… I’m pleading. For redemption.”

I let a small, slow smile curve my mouth. The kind that never quite reaches the eyes.

“I can’t just give you what you want, Miss Sunday” I stepped closer until the toes of my loafers nearly brushed her bare knees. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. “There’s always a price for everything.”

Her breathing hitched-once, sharply. I watched her chest rise and fall faster beneath the thin cotton of her sundress. The fabric was pale yellow, almost sheer where the light hit it. No bra. Her nipples were already tight little points pressing against

the material,

I reached down, slow, and hooked one finger under the arm of her sunglasses. Lifted them up until they rested on top of her head like a crown.

There it was-the real Bella. Red-rimmed eyes, lashes clumped with unshed tears, pupils blown wide with fear and something darker. Something that looked suspiciously like want,

I thumbed the edge of her lower lip, dragging the plump flesh down just enough to expose the wet inner pink.

“Tell me exactly what you’re offering, Miss Sunday,” I murmured. “In detail. And then tell me how badly you want that A.”

Her tongue darted out quickly and involuntarily, brushing the pad of my thumb.

And just like that, the room tilted.

She was still on her knees.

I was still fully dressed.

And the game we’d both been pretending not to play for three semesters had finally, reversibly begun.

“Your move, beautiful.” My voice dropped to a near-growl. “Make it count.”

Her lips parted on a shaky breath, For a second she looked like she might bolt. Then she leaned forward, just enough that could feel the heat rolling off her.

“I’ll suck your cock, Mr. Black,” she said, her voice low and already wrecked. “Right here. As long as you want. As deep as you want. I’ll use my tongue… my throat… I’ll swallow everything when you come. I’ll stay on my knees until you’re satisfied. I’ll let you fuck my mouth like it belongs to you. Because it does-if you want it to.”

My control started to fray at the edges.

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S

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