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Misadventures of a Valedictorian

Page 7

by M. F. Wild


  “Hi,” she whispered before pulling me into a kiss.

  The contact was strange to start—not nearly as strong or dominant as the kisses I’d experienced from the men I’d been with. She tasted sweet, like strawberry lip gloss, and while her motions were less invasive, they were also very sensual. She pushed me back gently and spread her attentions all over my skin, bringing my nerve endings alive in the ways I’d been craving for so long. Weeks…

  Eric left the foot of the bed and disappeared into his bathroom, emerging a minute later. He dropped a bottle and a few condoms onto the bed and began to undress. As each garment fell, I appreciated more of the gorgeous body beneath. Damn, I’d missed him. I almost forgot about Daisy’s mouth on me until she spread my legs and brought her lips around my clit.

  I sucked in a breath with a shuddery tremble. God, I was strung tight. And Daisy wasn’t being gentle anymore. She was sucking and licking me with a vigor that I never would have anticipated when we’d first started. I closed my eyes and fell into the sensations, moaning and moving my hips to the pace of her intimate kisses.

  “Fuck, that’s hot.” A raspy voice broke me out of the moment.

  Eric was stroking his rock-hard cock, his eyes blazing with lust. Whatever pleasure I was feeling seemed to echo through my beautiful man. Fuck was right. I wanted him more than I ever had.

  I didn’t have to ask when he dropped a knee onto the bed and positioned himself beside me. He kissed my neck, biting and marking me. Combined with Daisy’s stellar oral skills, I was already on edge, ready to come as soon as Eric gave me permission.

  Then he lifted my leg and hooked it over his muscular thigh, turning my body away from him a fraction. A crinkle of a condom and a sound of something squirting. Then he was notched at my ass. He kissed my neck again.

  “Fucking you hard here, baby. Because you’re not going to last long and neither am I. Daisy, you keep sucking my sweet Clare. Keep that clit nice and swollen but don’t let her come until I say.”

  He pushed into me then. A few careful strokes and I acclimated to his girth stretching me.

  “Can I put my fingers in her pussy?” Daisy’s voice was breathy with desire.

  “Yes,” I uttered in unison with Eric. I clenched against his cock. A new surge of my arousal coated Daisy’s lips as I surrendered, finally and completely, to what Eric wanted for us. This… And now we wanted the same thing.

  She pushed her fingers into me, making me more aware of all the ways I was being stimulated.

  “Like a glove,” she said with a giggle, shoving gently in and out.

  I was sliding off the cliff fast now. “Eric. Eric, please…” I pleaded, my hips moving of their own volition.

  “Soon, sweet Clare. So fucking soon.” He thrust fast and hard, his breathing ragged at my ear. “Daisy, is Clare’s clit swollen?”

  “Oh yeah. Nice and big.” She flicked her tongue over it.

  “Bite it. Fuck her with your fingers. Make my girl come nice and hard.”

  Daisy didn’t answer but did exactly what Eric wanted. I was there in a second, coming so hard I was screaming Eric’s name. The sound reverberated off the walls of the small room, but I didn’t care. He was the reason for my pleasure, and the world could know it.

  Eric slipped out of me but Daisy continued toying with me gently, careful not to touch the most sensitive places that were still humming from my release.

  Eric’s voice interrupted the fog of my post-orgasmic state. “I’m going to take care of Daisy now, love.”

  My heart twisted at the last word. I was all sensation and nerve endings right now, but my love for Eric pulsed under all of it. I nodded, because even though he hadn’t worded a question, I knew he was asking me. He couldn’t do this without me, and I didn’t want to ruin what we’d just shared. I trusted him.

  He rose gingerly and replaced the condom on his still engorged cock with a new one. He slapped Daisy’s ass, prompting her to lift it for him. She stayed stationed at my pussy, dedicated to her task, even if I was too blitzed to think about coming a second time. With one violent motion he was inside her. She cried out and fisted her hands in the comforter on either side of my thighs. Her jaw fell and our gazes met, as if we were silently bonding over the singular pleasure of enjoying Eric Hayward’s beautiful cock.

  The strain on Eric’s expression told of his restraint. Pleasing two of us was likely a challenge in stamina for him, but he was close. By the flushed look on Daisy’s face, she was too. I was still buzzing with satisfaction, but registered a little flicker of arousal in my clit watching them go at it. I was rooting for their pleasure. I wanted Eric to come hard, because I’d gotten him there and Daisy could take him the rest of the way.

  I started fingering myself, and the second I did, Eric’s eyes flashed open.

  “Daisy,” was all he said.

  Then Daisy was buried in my pussy again, sucking and moaning against me, her lips and tongue pushing against me to the time of Eric’s hips slamming against hers. In one explosive moment, we all came.

  We collapsed on the bed, catching our breath. We were a mess, covered in the evidence of our major fuck-fest.

  My head buzzed as the reality of what just happened sank in. Is this what Eric meant when he said he wanted to keep things open between us? Could I really do this?

  I had done it. And I’d loved it. So, I guessed the answer was yes.

  I was in college, and I was going to have the fucking time of my life.

  Chapter Six

  Clare

  I hated Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. I wanted to choke my roommate, Lacey, for talking me into taking this course with her. Human Sexuality had seemed like an interesting class at registration, but it had proven to be the most agonizing hour and a half of my life. Most days, it was all I could do to stay awake long enough to take notes. Last week, Mrs. Hendrix’s lecture on masturbation had been about as captivating as watching paint dry. I could only imagine how interesting today would be.

  When I entered the lecture hall, I was caught off guard by the loud chaos that greeted me. Sadly, this was probably the most excitement my class had seen all semester. Dropping my backpack on the floor, I settled into my upper-level seat beside Lacey. Our professor was missing from her usual spot behind the podium. Leaning over, I tapped my roommate on the shoulder, interrupting her conversation with a group of girls.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Mrs. Hendrix?”

  Lacey spun around to face me, her dark eyes widening in disbelief. “Oh my God, you haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?” Since all of my extra time was spent either tutoring or studying in the library, I was typically the very last person to know anything.

  “They fired Mrs. Hendrix.”

  “What? Why?”

  Lacey shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. They escorted her off the campus this morning, so it must be something pretty bad.”

  I blinked hard, trying to process what she was saying. “Wow. I wonder who they’re going to get to replace her?”

  I’d barely gotten out the words when the room fell silent, every head turning toward the front of the class. Lacey’s audible gasp pretty much summed up the glorious sexiness that strode confidently across the room.

  The handsome, dark-haired stranger looked like he’d stepped off the cover of GQ Magazine. He was young, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. His tall, athletic build reminded me a lot of Eric’s, except this guy was a bit taller. A white button-up shirt and black dress pants hugged his sculpted frame as if they had been custom tailored for him. My dirty mind was already imagining how deliciously ripped he had to be beneath them.

  Just when I thought this guy couldn’t get any hotter, he lifted his head, revealing his pale-colored eyes, which practically glowed against his olive skin.

  Who was this guy?

  “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Malcolm Drake. I will be taking over Mrs. Hendrix’s class for the rest of the semester
.” His deep, seductive voice sent a wave of chills over me.

  “Fucking hell, where did they find this guy? Sex-R-Us?” Lacey whispered, earning a chuckle from me.

  I glanced back in his direction, still grinning from Lacey’s comment. He was looking directly at me, paralyzing me in my seat. Our intense stare off seemed to go on forever, even though I’m sure it only lasted a few seconds. When he finally averted his eyes to the other side of the room, I felt a wave of relief rush over me, like a spell was broken.

  I slouched in my seat, kept my head down, and pulled my notebook closer to me. As he began the lecture, my thoughts began to drift.

  Before I knew it, the loud dismissal bell snapped me out of my daze. I blinked hard, my eyes slowly focusing on the screen full of notes in front of the classroom.

  Shit. I’d never zoned out in class like this before. Somehow I’d latched onto the seductive tone of Mr. Drake’s voice but managed not to absorb a single word he’d said. I stared down at the empty page in my notebook and cursed inwardly again.

  Mr. Drake raised his voice to speak above the loud shuffling in the room. “Remember, your research papers are due this Thursday.”

  Rattled by my unexpected reaction to the new professor, I shoved my things into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. I rushed out of the room and down the small set of stairs before Lacey had a chance to stop me. Once I was far enough down the hall, I ducked into a nearby bathroom, relieved to find it empty. I dropped my bag and stumbled back against the door.

  If I’d thought Mrs. Hendrix’s lectures were agony, enduring the rest of the semester with her replacement would be certain torture. Professor Drake was anything but dull, but he was…distracting. How in the hell was I going to make it through another eight weeks of school with him as my instructor?

  * * *

  After a week, I couldn’t deny that Human Sexuality had become my favorite class.

  I bit down on the top of my pencil and sighed at the beautiful man standing in front of the classroom. His black button-up shirt hugged the toned body beneath. I couldn’t imagine its perfection, but I certainly tried…

  God, it should be against the law for professors to be this hot. How was I supposed to learn anything in this environment?

  I wasn’t the only one who shared the same sentiment. I couldn’t believe some of the scandalous outfits that were now being worn to class by my classmates. Between the excessive amount of cleavage and ass they were showing, I was surprised Mr. Drake could concentrate on teaching at all. But his demeanor never changed, as if he were completely oblivious to how people lusted after him.

  I would have assumed he was gay, but the heated looks I’d received from him in the hallway and in class made me think differently. I was a student and he was a teacher, and I should’ve been a little disturbed by those looks. But I wasn’t. I found myself looking forward to our silent exchanges…a lot.

  “Miss Winston.”

  The mention of my name snapped me from my inappropriate thoughts. In a class of over eighty-five students, I was shocked that he already knew my name. Straightening up in my seat, I locked eyes with him. I struggled to form a response.

  “Yes, sir?”

  A small smile crept across his gorgeous face. “Perhaps you can explain to the class what view the Ancient Greeks held on masturbation?”

  A rush of heat filled my face as every head in the classroom turned in my direction. I was just opening my mouth to answer him when the dismissal bell rang.

  Relieved, I shrunk back into my seat.

  “It appears you are saved by the bell, Miss Winston.” Mr. Drake’s dark stare never wavered from mine as he continued to speak. “Be sure to read over the next two chapters. Your papers will be returned to you in class on Thursday. Good day.”

  The class became loud with movement as people rose to leave.

  Lacey piped up beside me. “What the hell was that about?”

  I shoved my binder into my bag and shrugged, trying to seem unaffected. “I don't know. I guess he wanted to embarrass me for not paying attention.”

  Lacey smirked. “Well, judging by how red you still are, I’d say he succeeded.”

  I rolled my eyes and stood. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Don’t you want to go demonstrate your view on masturbation?”

  Little did she know, her playful teasing only added another fantasy to the few I’d already been nursing for the sexy professor.

  “Shut it, Lacey,” I snapped.

  “What? I’d gladly play naughty student any day with him.”

  She bit her lip as she stared toward the front of the classroom. I followed her gaze, no less immune to Professor Drake’s sex appeal and the dirty fantasies he inspired.

  But that’s all they were… Fantasies.

  * * *

  The large red F circled at the top of my paper seemed to leap off the page, and the crushing disappointment had nearly slapped me in the face. In all my years of school, I’d never received less than an A- on anything. With trembling hands, I flipped through my research paper, desperately searching for some sort of explanation. Other than the grade on the front, there wasn’t a single mark or notation in the entire paper. Obviously, Mr. Drake had made some sort of mistake.

  Gathering my things, I waited until everyone had left before I made my way down to the lower level. When Mr. Drake didn’t acknowledge me, I stepped closer to his desk and cleared my throat to get his attention.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Drake?”

  I held my breath, watching as he slowly raised his head. The instant his icy blue eyes locked with mine, I froze. From this close up, he was even more breathtaking, which made keeping myself together very difficult.

  “Can I help you with something, Miss Winston?”

  Petrified by his intimidating demeanor, I struggled to speak. “Y-Yes, sir. I think there may be some sort of mistake with my grade.” My hands were shaking when I laid my paper on the desk in front of him.

  He raised his brow. “I see.”

  He briefly lifted the paper, glanced at the front page, and tossed it back on his desk. I had to bite the inside of my lip to control my irritation.

  “There’s no mistake, Miss Winston. The grade is correct,” he replied dryly, returning his attention to his writing.

  No, no, no!

  My stomach plummeted. I’d spent countless hours in the library working on it, following every single guideline that was listed in the syllabus. How could I possibly have gotten a failing grade on it?

  “But, sir, there isn’t anything marked to explain the grade you gave me.”

  He threw his pen down onto the desk. “The execution of your paper was flawless, Miss Winston, but that isn’t the point.”

  Unless the “F” on my paper meant flawless, I was completely lost on what he was saying.

  “I don’t understand,” I replied, this time more urgent with my tone.

  “No, you’re right, Miss Winston. You don’t understand. That’s the problem.”

  “Excuse me?” I was both shocked and angered by his accusation. “I spent a lot of time researching the topic, Mr. Drake. Believe me, I understood the assignment completely.”

  He raised his hand to stop me. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong, Miss Winston. You can read every book and article ever written on human sexuality, but that doesn’t make you an expert on it. The sources you cited were safe and far too predictable. I’m interested in your experiences, your views.” He nodded toward the paper lying in front of him. “Not an ounce of your work tells me you have a handle on this topic beyond regurgitating the facts that others have written about.”

  Why was he being so unreasonable?

  “Can I at least have another opportunity on this assignment?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Please, sir. Even if I ace the final exam, this failing paper means my grade for the class won’t be higher than a D.” The desperation in my voice was undeniable.
r />   Mr. Drake eyed me hard, his jaw tensing. “And? I fail to see how that is my problem.”

  Heavy tears pooled in my eyes. “I’ll lose my scholarship, Mr. Drake. I won’t be able to afford the tuition to come back to school in the spring.” I tasted the salty tears as they poured down my face. “Please, I’m begging you.”

  Something dark glimmered in his icy blue eyes. I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  “Begging is beneath you, Clare,” he said, his tone dangerously low.

  I exhaled sharply, realizing that he’d just called me by my first name. The power in his stare was making my body react in ways it shouldn’t. He was my teacher. I was his student. This was crossing every line of what was appropriate.

  “Desperation is a dangerous emotion. It pushes people to do things they wouldn’t normally do in order to get what they want.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Are you willing to be pushed, Clare?”

  Pushed? Pushed to do what?

  “I’m a hard worker. If you give me a chance, I’ll prove that to you.” Keeping my chin up, I stood before him, knowing that the fate of my scholarship rested solely in his hands. I was utterly at his mercy, if he had any.

  A few agonizing seconds passed, the air between us thick with unexplainable tension.

  “Okay, Clare. If I agree to grant you the extra credit in this class, it’s with the understanding that you’ll never question me, or my methods. If, at any time, you hesitate to do as you're told, the deal is off. Is that clear?”

  Hope filled me, and I blinked away the sting of my earlier tears. “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good. Meet me here at seven o’clock tomorrow night—not a second later. I’m bending the rules, because I see great potential in you. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I won’t, sir. I promise. Thank you,” I rushed.

  A wicked smirk graced his handsome face as he handed me back my paper. “Don’t thank me yet, Miss Winston. You don’t know what I have in store for you.”

 

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