Master Class: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (+ Bonus Book 'Silent Daughter 1')

by Linnea May

  Love is a strong word, but I’m beginning to understand what the meaning behind it could be.

  For what it’s worth, I’m incredibly proud of her. My girl. My Lana.

  She greets us with calm professionalism, but I can tell how nervous she really is by the flickering of her thick eyelashes.

  Even now, she’s wearing that gigantic ring. It doesn’t go well with the outfit and looks almost masculine on her dainty finger. She’s touching it, nervously turning it around her finger as she takes position.

  She starts her presentation in a very similar way to last time, which is good, because there was nothing wrong with the basic idea and the way she introduced it. As it is so often, the devil is in the detail.

  That particular detail is mentioned toward the end of her presentation, and she changed it drastically. She took my suggestion of not only addressing individuals or small groups of people, but also provide room for local business to make their neighbors aware of their existence and special promotions. That is pretty much what I suggested, but she modified my proposition by limiting this opportunity only to small, locals businesses, to give them a head start against big chains, and she also suggests adding a filter mode that will let people decide how much of this advertising they want to see.

  I can’t stop the broad smile from appearing on my face as I listen to her proposal. She’s done great. I’m not surprised, but feel validated in my trust in her. I knew she had something in her, and she does.

  Needless to say, she’ll get our approval. After this presentation, she has four votes on her side and only one against her, solely based on the fact that she can’t code the app herself and - according to my colleague - is thus not qualified to enter this market at all. There are plenty of narrow minded people in the business world as well, that prerogative is not limited to ivy league campuses.

  I can tell by the look on her face that she knows how well she did, but I still have to go through two more presentations - one being declined and the other being accepted as well - before we call her back into the room to tell her the good news.

  Seeing her eyes light up, glistening with tears of joy, is even more beautiful than seeing her break and lose control beneath my touch. I want to hug her, celebrate her, but I can’t as long as we are still here.

  After everything is wrapped up, I hurry outside to see if she’s still around. Lana is standing in the waiting area, idly chatting with the other guy who got his proposal accepted today. When she sees me, she kindly excuses herself and approaches me, pressing the map with her notes against her chest, her eyes beaming with pure joy.

  “Mr. Portland,” she says, the coy undertone in her voice evident. “Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity.”

  She winks at me, and I want to spank the hell out of her for being such a tease.

  “You did very well,” I say, trying my best not to touch her in any inappropriate manner. “You worked well with those suggestions, and you made them your own.”

  “My roommate helped me,” she admits. “She gave me the input I needed.”

  “Is that so,” I reply. “And here I was, thinking it was me who helped you succeed.”

  She leans in closer, casting a quick glance around before she whispers: “You know you are.”

  She withdraws and clears her throat.

  “Also, even though it pains me to agree with you,” she says. “You were right. Failure. Never underestimate the value of it. Mine certainly made this project better than it was before.”

  I notice that she’s fiddling with her hands again and look down. She’s holding that ring between her fingers, not turning it like she was before, but holding it in a tight grip between two of her fingers.

  “Tell me,” I say. “This ring. What’s the story behind it?”

  She instantly withdraws her fingers from the ring and stares up at me, caught in the act.

  “It’s um… why do you think there’s a story behind it?”

  “There must be,” I assume, taking her hand and lifting it up to my face. “It’s such an unusual ring, especially on a hand like yours.”

  She flinches. “Jackson, not he-”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m just looking at your ring, it’s not like we’re about to make out.”

  I pause and let go of her hand, catching her blue eyes. “We’ll do that later.”

  She blushes.

  “So?” I ask, nodding toward her hand. “What’s the story?”

  She sighs and lowers her gaze down on her hand, gently touching the ring.

  “It’s a promise,” she murmurs. “A promise I made with a friend, to myself.”

  “A promise to yourself?”

  She nods. “Yes. A promise to do exactly what I did today - to try to become someone different than my parents.”

  I’m utterly confused.

  “I noticed you wearing that ring the first day I met you,” I say. “But you weren’t exactly living up to the promise then, were you?”

  A sad smile emerges on her tired face. Now that she’s no longer carried by the strain of having to present herself, it’s quite noticeable how drained she is. I will have to make sure to pamper her in the upcoming weeks to make sure that she has enough energy to study for her finals.

  “No,” she says. “I wasn’t. Contrary to my friend, I didn’t follow up on that promise at all. She’s already living it, her dream. But I caved in, and did the exact opposite, until…”

  She pauses and looks up at me, her blue eyes radiating.

  “Until I met you.”

  The depth of her words hits me right in the chest. When I decided to teach this class, I told myself that I would be happy if I’d manage to reach one student.

  Never in my life did I expect this student to become so important to me, as well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  LANA

  I leave his office on wobbly legs, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as if I was drunk and trying my best to walk in a straight for a police officer’s inquisition.

  I feel like everyone is staring at me, even though there’s absolutely no way for them to know about the little secret I carry between my legs. I can feel it with every step, pushing against my walls from the inside as I walk.

  He has yet to turn it on, and I have no idea if or when he will. A part of me, the dark and kinky side, can’t wait for it to happen.

  The last few weeks flew by in a nebula of warm affection. After I passed the recall round and was approved for support by the angel investors, Jackson revealed to me that he had already set aside the necessary funds for me in an account, and that he did so well before the recall session. All that is left for me to do is to finish this degree. After that, I’m free to follow up on that dream. A dream that even Celia has now become a part of, as she’ll be my official co-founder once she’s done with her own degree.

  I have so much to be thankful for when it comes to Jackson, the man whose attention I earned by dissing him in a way that I feel ashamed of now.

  The sexiest man I’ve ever known.

  We still had to remain careful and secretive about our relationship, but that didn’t stop us from spending as much time as possible together. He marks me with more than just his belt now, and I enjoy every moment of it. I crave it. I crave his rigor as much as I crave his sweetness.

  When he asked me if I wanted to make our last class together as teacher and student a special one, I immediately said yes. Now, in retrospect, I think it would have been smart to think about this at least for a second.

  “I’ll show you just how kinky things can get with me,” he promised once I agreed, and I spent more than a week wondering what he could possibly have in store for me.

  Now I know.

  A vibrating toy has been placed inside of me - and he has control of it.

  I walk into the auditorium like any other day, taking my seat in the third row and preparing my things to take notes. I know there will be no need to take n
otes of anything, as Jackson will only use this last class for a little roundup on the things he talked about during the semester, but I need to keep occupied to distract myself from the toy that’s stretching me from the inside.

  Why the hell am I doing this?

  Because I like it. Because it excites me to sit in this class, looking like the perfectly good girl from the outside, while I’m hiding this naughty secret beneath my skirt.

  My heart jumps when Jackson walks into the auditorium, wearing a black blazer with a light shirt underneath and gray jeans that accentuate his ass perfectly. He looks incredible. He always does, but even more so that he went the extra mile today.

  He turns his dark gaze in my direction, suggesting a wink, so quick and short that I’m the only person in the room who’s aware of it.

  My pulse races, knowing that he brought the remote control with him, or at least assuming that he did. He enjoys messing with my head, and it could just as well be part of his plan to never use the control on me, but have me sit on the edge of my seat during the entire class, fearing that he might turn the toy on any minute now.

  However, his plan is a different one.

  “Good morning, everybody,” he greets the room. An indistinct murmur greets him back. He sets up a laptop, presumably to share a PowerPoint presentation with us. There were very few classes during which he used slides, but it shouldn’t surprise me that he decides to do so today. Slides are perfect to sum things up and call things back to mind.

  “We’ll cut today’s class short,” he announces, while he’s still busy setting up his laptop. “I’m sure you all have better things to do with your time anyway, now that finals are coming up.”

  The first slide appears on the giant canvas behind him, and he steps aside, reaching into his blazer’s pocket.

  My heart stops when I see what he’s reaching for. Considering the situation, it would make sense for him to produce a little pointer to highlight certain points on the slide, or a remote control so he can flip slides without having to stand next to the laptop.

  But the little controller he’s getting out of his pocket is pink.

  Just like the toy inside of me.

  I hold my breath, preparing for him to turn it on. But instead he just holds it in his hand for a moment, making sure that I can see it before he turns around to the canvas to read out loud what’s written on it.

  My vision blurs and I can barely hear what he’s saying. My eyes are glued to the little pink controller in his hand.

  “Basically, we’ll just wrap up this class with a little chat about what you might have learned in here,” he babbles, nonchalantly waving the control around. “I’ve prepared a few slides for you to recap this semester, and we’ll talk a little about it afterward. Sound good?”

  He’s scanning the auditorium, obviously receiving no reply whatsoever.

  “Alright, then,” he says, pointing the pink remote control toward the laptop, and toward me.

  A strong tickle erupts inside of me, causing me to flinch in my seat, my left hand clawing on the surface of the little table in front of me while my right clenches around the pen I’m holding.

  The vibrations are strong and constant, not giving me any time or room to process the sensation. I have nothing to focus on but the overpowering dizziness of the vibrations inside my core.

  “Huh?” I hear him saying, casting a quizzical look at the pink controller in his hand. “This doesn’t seem to be working.”

  My cheeks burn with fiery heat, and I crouch over the table, trying to hide the turmoil between my legs. While the sensation was just plain awkward at first, it’s driving me insane now.

  I can’t believe he’s doing it like this, in front of the entire auditorium, drawing attention to the controller in his hands while I’m bending over my desk and breaking into a sweat as the vibrations are driving through my insides.

  He pointedly hits the remote again, and again. With each time he punches the button, the vibrations grow in intensity, toying with my insides and slowly but surely finding their way to my g-spot.

  Fuck, he’s going to make me come.

  I cast a look around, hoping that no one notices my predicament. A gasp escapes my lips when he hits the button again, and this time he’s even looking in my direction. The suggestion of an evil smirk travels across his face, before he concentrates on the canvas behind him.

  “That’s odd,” he says, studying the remote control again.

  “Oh, this is the wrong one!” He exclaims, and I almost collapse as he puts the controller away, leaving me alone with this tantalizing pleasure, still humming inside of me.

  The pink control is replaced with a black one.

  “This is it,” he says, successfully changing the first slide of his presentation, now using the correct controller for it.

  The class is giggling and murmuring, but just because of our professor’s wacky behavior, not because they’re aware that there is one among them who’s about to reach her climax at one of the most inappropriate places one could think of. Right in the middle of class, with unsuspecting students sitting left and right from me.

  Somehow, the thought only adds to my arousal and I find myself wavering back and forth, trying to bring the most intense effect of the vibration to my sweet spot.

  I’ve reached a point of no return. I must come. I don’t know if anyone notices or not. I can be quiet, I have been for the entire time since this started.

  Jackson continues his lecture, speaking as if nothing unusual was going on, but I catch him glancing at me more often than usual, and every time he does, my agitation reaches a new high.

  My release rolls over me with a sudden urge, taking control of my entire being while I surrender. My hands claw into the table top, the pen rolling out of my right hand and noisily dropping to the floor, while I reach the peak of my climax in that exact moment.

  It’s the sound of the pen that causes a few heads to turn my way, but some of them get stuck on me, because they can see. They can see my flushed cheeks, my contorted face and the sweat rolling down my temples.

  Jackson’s eyes are on me as well. I cast him a pleading look, as the vibrations continue to torment me. He winks at me and reaches into his blazer’s pocket. A moment later, the vibrations stop, and I sigh with relief.

  “That was cruel,” I say, walking up to him after all the other students have left the auditorium.

  He packs up his laptop and smiles without looking at me.

  “You loved it.”

  I did. A very kinky side of me loved this, a side I didn’t know existed until I met him.

  “I wish you would have been more discreet,” I say.

  He closes his briefcase and looks at me, a warm smile gracing his handsome face.

  “I’m not your teacher anymore,” he says, stepping closer to me.

  I instinctively try to take a step away, to keep up the appropriate distance between us, but he holds me, placing one hand on my back while the other cups my cheek.

  “You’re not my student anymore,” he whispers. “Just my girlfriend.”

  I cast him a coy smile and lean into his soft hand.

  “We can do as we damn well please,” he adds, leaning in for a kiss.

  Our lips meet for the first time in this forbidden place, and I lean into him with passion so deep it feels as if it was our very first kiss. There’s an innocence in this kiss that doesn’t measure up with who we really are. The good girl, turned by her naughty teacher.

  As if he wants to prove my thoughts right, Jackson reaches into his pocket and sends me to another level of bliss.

  Thank you for reading!

  Reviews really help out newcomer indie authors like me - I am super grateful for every single one! :)

  If you want to know how Lana & Jackson are doing a little further down the road, sign up to my mailing list and you will receive the epilogue to their story that is exclusive to my subscribers!

  You will also get a FREE s
hort story, featuring the protagonists of my BDSM Romance ‘I am Yours’: ‘Anniversary’

  An excerpt from ‘Anniversary’:

  “Happy anniversary, my pet,” he whispered as our kiss ended, holding my chin up with two of his fingers, so I was looking at him. His dark eyes were as unreadable as ever, shielded with mystery.

  I smiled. “Happy anniversary, master.”

  “Are you happy to see me?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  I knew he would check. I knew he would check if I had obeyed his wish. And he did. His hands wandered along my back, then moved to the front, gently kneading my breasts through the fabric of my dress.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, giving me a little peck on the forehead.

  And then one of his hands moved along, wandering down my belly, cleverly reaching underneath my light dress. His fingertips skimmed my inner thighs as he slowly moved upwards. I moaned when he reached my center, caressing my wet clit with two of his fingers. Even after all that had happened between us, I was still amazed at how wet just being around him made me.

  “You’re such a good slut for me,” he breathed. “Such a perfect, wet girl.”

  To get your hands on ‘Anniversary’, click here to sign up. :)

  Visit me at www.linneamay.com to find out more about my other titles and ARC opportunities!

  Also by Linnea May

  For my Master(‘s)

  His Secret Muse

  His Muse’s Fidelity

  I am Yours

  Dark Romance with Stella Noir

  Silent Daughter 1: Taken

  Silent Daughter 2: Bound

  Silent Daughter 3: Owned

  Continue with Silent Daughter 1: Taken right here:

  Silent Daughter

  1: Taken

  Copyright © 2016 by Stella Noir & Linnea May

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.