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Teacher's Pet

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by Madison Skye




  Teacher’s Pet

  Madison Skye

  © 2018 Madison Skye

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  She acted innocent but I knew better. Everly was nothing but trouble, and I was going to teach her a lesson..

  Life seemed boring and jaded

  Until she walked into my classroom, dressed in hardly anything

  I tried to control myself, but her big brown eyes and curvy legs drew me in

  I knew I should resist temptation

  She was my student after all

  But she was also a tease, and someone needed to teach her a lesson

  As her teacher..

  Wasn’t that my job?

  If you like older alpha men who love to take charge and make a woman feel good, you’ll love this steamy novella with no cheating and a guaranteed HEA!

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  http://eepurl.com/gzPJgz

  Teacher’s Pet

  Madison Skye© 2018 Madison Skye

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Blurb here

  Everly

  Daimon

  Everly

  Daimon

  Everly

  Daimon

  Everly

  Daimon

  Everly

  Daimon

  Everly

  Daimon - 1 Year Later

  Everly - 2 Years Later

  Everly

  His muscles bulged and pulled taut as he pinned me against the dingy alleyway wall. I could feel the roughness of the bricks beneath my bare skin, digging in and leaving little abrasions. Later, I knew I’d run my fingers along them and use them to remember how it felt to have his body pressed heavy against mine.

  I’d never seen the man in my life. I didn’t even know his name. Really, what was the point? I knew I’d never see him again. Just some good fun, no strings attached. That’s all I wanted. A man to take me in his arms and transport me somewhere else for awhile. A man who knew what he was doing and could make me feel good enough to lose myself for a little while.

  This man, whoever he was, seemed to fall into that camp. He had a shock of blonde hair and tanned skin. He reminded me of a surfer living on the California coast, right down to the shark fin necklace that rested against his neck. His eyes were baby blue and full of mischief as he tugged my panties aside. I could only imagine that mine looked just as playful when I heard the telltale sound of his zipper.

  Just like that, he was inside of me. My back was against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. He was a strong one, holding me up like I weighed nothing at all. His cock, though I hadn’t seen it in the darkness of our seedy surroundings, was well above average. I could feel how he stretched me, my lips parting so he could work his entire shaft into my tightness.

  “God,” I breathed. “You feel so huge!”

  He winked and I blushed. Don’t ask me why. I was already bared to him as much as possible, but I still felt shy. He was a stranger after all. A stranger with a throbbing hard-on and muscular arms that felt like heaven wrapped around me.

  He pumped into me, hard and fast, like a piston. I could feel my nipples tingling as I grew close to orgasm. He was slamming into me at just the right angle, his pubic bone brushing lightly against my clit. Over and over he thrust, lost in his own world until we came together, a tangled mess of limbs.

  Then he was gone, leaving me shivering and alone in the alley. When I’d gotten my bearings, I grinned like the cheshire cat. Another night, another successful round of hot sex. After a month straight out on the town, I hadn’t failed yet. With a body like mine, all you had to do was gyrate your hips and men would fall all over you.

  It sure was fun getting whatever I wanted.

  My alarm pulled me out of a deep sleep. I groaned and barely stifled the urge to toss my phone across the room. The dream I’d been having was a good one, with a hot hunk and outrageous sex. Despite my penchant for flirting, I’d never actually had sex with a stranger in a dark alleyway.

  Not that I wouldn’t try it, if the opportunity presented itself. I wasn’t one to turn down a new adventure if it was offered. I’d had my fair share of men in different places around the city, and I wasn’t planning on closing up shop anytime soon. The freedom that came with not being tied down was just too much to throw away.

  Most girls my age thought about different things than I did. Freshly 18 and entering my first year of college, all I thought about was making it through life, one day at a time. I had no desire to become a mother, settle down, or find a husband as soon as possible. I hardly had ambitions at all. I found it hard to really pinpoint a life purpose for myself.

  It felt like everyone else already had their entire lives planned out, while I was content to just chill for a while. I wanted to rest, find myself, and see where life took me. I was having too much fun to sit down and think about what my future would look like in a decade. I didn’t see the point of living for the future instead of living in the moment.

  So instead of living with a steady boyfriend or knowing what my major was, I dabbled, in both men and classes. There would be no other time in my life that I’d be able to live like that, and I wanted to take full advantage of my youth. So instead of knowing that I was going to be a lawyer or a scientist or a paralegal, I signed myself up for a wide variety of general education courses, from art history to literature courses.

  The same went for men. I rarely went out with a guy more than once, unless they were excellent lovers. Even then, I cut things off before an attachment could be formed. I had no problem sleeping with someone on the first date, or even before the date happened. There was no point beating around the bush, pretending to want something I didn’t, just to get down to the nitty gritty.

  College was going to be a hell of a lot of fun. It felt more sophisticated than high school. The men looked older and more experienced. The girls seemed less bitchy and more likely to leave you alone. The classes were more intriguing. And hell, there were no parents to speak of. You were free to make your own decisions, whether good or bad.

  That day was my first day. I felt a nervous sort of excitement that made my palms sweat and my mouth run dry. I was almost afraid, but not so nervous that I was going to let it put a damper on my good morning.

  I was still wet and ready from my dream, and it made me want to attract someone who would take care of my problem for me. After rifling through my closet, I picked an outfit I thought would draw the eye. I had many slutty little pieces of clothing to choose from, but this outfit was my favorite.

  I had chosen the smallest pair of shorts I owned, a pair of jean cutoffs that rivaled Daisy Dukes in tinyness. With it I paired a white crop top that was tight on my ample chest. No bra, so my nipples strained against the fabric and grew hard with every movement I made. My belly button ring, shaped like a Chinese dragon, glinted in the dim light of my dorm room.

  I ran a brush through my coffee-ground colored hair, humming to myself. After a spritz of perfume and a quick application of mascara, eyeliner and shimmery lip gloss, I felt good to go. My bag had been packed and ready for at least a week, waiting in the corner of my dorm for the big day.

  Yes, college was going to be a blast. I knew it would be hard work as well. I may not have known where I wanted life to take me, but that didn’t mean I planned on skating through these formative years without putting in any effort. I would take each class seriously, try to get the best grade I possibly could. Eventually, somet
hing would catch my interest, and I could work on pursuing it for a career, as long as my grades were stellar.

  So yes, I still had to work hard. I knew that, even as I twirled around my room, making plans in my head. I had no problem working hard and coming out on top, as long as it didn’t ruin my chances at happiness.

  Even with all the hard work, I planned on having plenty of fun. I’d started over the summer, excited to be moving into a new life chapter. The day classes started was an even bigger occasion for me, one that I’d been giddily looking forward to as the summer days gradually started to wind to a close.

  My first class was one on medieval history. Not normally my thing, but I thought I’d try it. I knew my professor was a younger male, a Mr. Henderson. I’d seen his picture on the college website and right away, I knew I’d have a blast screwing with him and his gorgeous body.

  Was I in college for all the right reasons? Honestly, I don’t know. Didn’t then, don’t know. All I knew then was sand and surf and fun. Those things had never steered me wrong before. They’d always given me hours of fun and a deep satisfaction. I had no plans on changing my ways.

  Walking to my first college class, I felt like I was invincible.

  Daimon

  Just another boring day full of nothing but teaching kids twenty years younger than me about battles and wars that really didn’t matter anymore. The new semester dawned, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. My life was stuck in a rut that I could see no way out of, and it made me act despondent and helpless.

  The September heat was thick and sticky. It clung to the back of my neck like a vice grip, making my already foul mood that much worse. Kids were everywhere, pushing and shoving each other, laughing obnoxiously as they chased each other down the winding pathways between buildings. I sat outside, black briefcase open in front of me, papers fanned all over my table.

  I’d been a teacher for over a decade. The first few years I’d tried my best to love it. Even when not a soul shared my passion for history, I tried my best to wrangle some enthusiasm from my classes. When it hadn’t happened, I’d shrugged it off, hoping for better luck next semester. Eventually, even my eternal optimism had taken a shit and died a painful death.

  It left me bitter. No friends. No steady lover, just a fling here and there that left me less than content. Sure, I had a nice home that I owned instead of rented, and a tiny kitten who was great at cheering me up when I needed it most. But that wasn’t enough. There was a great hole in my life, a barren and empty wasteland that needed to be patched up.

  Sometimes I spent hours wondering where I went wrong, why I turned down the path I did in my 20’s. I never did come up with an answer. I wondered why I didn’t make a change, go down another career path. I guess I just felt like all that was over for me. I was too old to do something so radically different. I had to deal with my life and accept that it was never going to be what I’d envisioned.

  That first day of classes, I’d been more despondent than ever. I’d fully expected the same old shit as usual, followed by a beer or two that night before passing out in bed alone and frustrated. I hadn’t even thought of the possibility of my entire life changing in the blink of an eye.

  The usual roster of preppy, annoying looking kids walked in that morning. Guys with polo shirts, laughing loud and obnoxious as they shoved their friends around, eyes gleaming, bags strung over their shoulders. I couldn’t help it. I sneered, hiding it behind my hand, ashamed of myself. How had my life become this big, depressing mess?

  Then there were the girls. They were curvier than high school girls, but otherwise the same. They giggled at the boys, passed notes to each other, smacked gum loud enough that I wanted to rip it out of their mouths. They all had long hair, perfectly straightened, and big fake nails that looked gaudy. I had no idea what any of them were doing in my classroom. History didn’t seem to be their area of interest.

  Then she came in, trailing behind the others. I should have written her off like I had with every other college girl. Hell, with how she was dressed, I should have hated her even more. But I didn’t. She was alone, but not in an emo kind of way. She walked with a quiet grace, confident enough she didn’t feel the need to draw attention to herself.

  My sneer evaporated, and I’m pretty damn sure my mouth hung open like I’d never seen so much skin in my life. Her long legs were on full display in those tiny little shorts, and the curve of her hips drew my eyes to her bare stomach. My eyes traveled up her entire body, pausing on her ample tits, my mind going wild.

  Then I got to her face and her coffee colored hair. Her eyes were stunning, a deep cocoa color that was friendly and inviting. What was less inviting, though, was the smirk on her glossed lips. She looked right at me and winked. She knew I’d been staring, and she wasn’t going to let me forget it.

  She sat right in the front row, still looking right at me. My throat was dry and my heart hammered in my chest. Her youth shined off her. I felt like a pervert looking at her, but I couldn’t tear myself away. She had me wrapped around her little finger from the first moment I laid eyes on her.

  And boy, did she know it. What I’d expected to be a boring first class ended up being even more thrilling than the first few I’d taught, right out of college. I was glad that all I had to talk about was rules and expectations that day, going over the textbook and such. If I’d had to teach anything of substance, I’m sure I would have tripped over my words and made a fool of myself.

  She didn’t take her attention off me the entire class. She kept shifting in her seat, just right, so her cleavage would pop out the top of her shirt. I tried my best not to look, but I kept sneaking glances whenever other people in the room weren’t paying much attention. It was hard to stay focused on the present when all I could think about was ripping the tiny shirt off her and holding those huge breasts in my hands.

  When she unwrapped a big red sucker and popped it in her mouth, I almost had to excuse myself. My cock was hard as sin and difficult to conceal behind the folder I held in my hand. As class wound down and she kept sucking on that lollipop, I slid behind my desk and began to fantasize.

  That morning in September, I spent my time wishing I was a big red lollipop. The way she twirled her tongue over the tip before popping the whole thing in her mouth was mesmerizing. I knew that she was corrupt, the farthest thing from innocent there was possible. I wanted to take her over my knee and spank her until she was ready to behave.

  As the end of class ticked nearer, I found myself feeling disappointed. I had no desire for the session to end. I could have watched my new student suck on that lollipop for days on end. I never would have gotten bored. Watching her felt natural. It stirred something primal in me, awakened a roaring flicker of lust and sexual desire that had been lying dormant in my body for years now.

  I wanted one thing in that moment, and one only. My mind was on one track without turns or stations for rest. All I could see was her naked body being touched by my large, rough hands. I knew she was toying with me. She was having as much fun as I.

  I was fairly certain I wasn’t the only man she’d teased like this. She was doing far too good of a job for this to be her first time. She knew exactly how to make my ticker run faster, knew how to make my palms sweat and fingers twitch as I held myself still. She knew how to drive me crazy enough to make insane scenarios flash through my mind, even as I shouted at myself to behave.

  I was sure I wasn’t her first victim. With a body like that and those cocoa colored eyes, I knew that many men had shared her bed, and even more had wanted to. I felt a sense of duty. Maybe it was misguided or stupid, but I’d felt like I’d owed my fellow men something.

  This girl, this flaming hot, thick and curvy girl with a wicked smile and a gleam of mischief in her eye, needed to be stopped. If I let her get away with this, she’d do it again. So many poor souls, naive enough to think they’re good enough to sleep with her. If my theories were right, she led on far more men than she actually le
t touch her.

  When the bell rang, she looked into my eyes and winked at me again. She was definitely toying with me. I watched her walk out of the room, my stomach twisting and full of lust. Her hips swayed seductively as she slipped through the doorway and out of my sight. Though I knew I’d see her again, I felt empty inside when her absence hit me.

  And that was all it took. Knowing that, after a 90 minute class, I’d already become emotionally attached to a perfect stranger, was enough to make me vow to teach her a lesson. There she was dressed provocatively, and fully aware of it. There she was grinning at me and winking, thinking that she was the one in control.

  It was clear that no one had ever taught her a lesson. I was determined to change that. When I was done with the sexy little thing, she’d think twice before teasing another man again. When I was done with her, she’d have some respect.

  After all, she was in college now. Hadn’t she come to learn?

  Everly

  I’d never met a man who captivated me as fully as my new professor did. The moment I laid eyes on hm, I knew he was easy bait. He looked frazzled and frustrated, like the last thing he wanted to do was spend his time teaching a bunch of kids twenty years his junior.

  His salt and pepper hair intrigued me. I found myself wanting to run my fingers through it as he looked into my eyes and told me all the naughty things he wanted from me. Because it was pretty damn obvious he wanted to do some very inappropriate things to me. The tent he’d pitched in his pants told me all I needed to know.

  I’d always had a thing for older men. Their experience and confidence made me swoon. I was always curious, wondering what new tricks an older man would bring into the bedroom. Would he be able to teach me new things, or would I be disappointed when I found out that men stuck to their same old tricks, year after year?

 

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