Educating Emma by Kat Austen
Emma’s had it bad for Professor Faraday all semester. Despite her best efforts, Luke Faraday seems immune to the brilliant blonde who sits enthralled in his lecture hall every day.
When Emma decides to confront her enigmatic professor and confess her feelings, Luke has a confession of his own to make. Will his confession send her running? Or will it send her running straight into his arms?
Either way, Emma’s about to get more of an education than she bargained for.
***This is a Dark Fantasies Novella, fantasy being the key word. Get lost in the story, hold off jumping to conclusions, and brace yourself for the sweet surprise waiting at the end.***
“Dr. Faraday . . .” she calls in that innocent voice of her. There’s a question in her voice.
“My place. Tonight.” I tuck my insatiable cock into my pants. “I’m afraid we’ve failed to fully meet his needs with our session this afternoon, so we’ll have to try again later.”
I wait her for to agree. Her body tells me everything I need to know, but still, I want her to nod. She does, her shoulders slumping in defeat as I pull a fresh shirt from my briefcase and button it on. Even after I’ve forced orgasm after orgasm from her, riding her hard, I can tell she’s still wound tight. Still needy.
Still greedy for my body and what it does to her.
After tucking in my shirt, I smack her ass as I pass behind her. She barely flinches, instead almost sinking into my palm, welcoming it to strike her soft cheek again. I give her what she wants.
“I’ve taken every part of you in the time we’ve been allotted, but tonight . . .” My fingers run down her cheeks, pausing to circle where I’m planning on having my fun tonight.
Her hips pitch back, giving me better access, and right before I free my cock to take her back there now, I pause long enough to take a breath. Tonight. Something to look forward to.
When I can take as much time as I want.
Giving her ass one last slap, I lower my mouth to her neck. Unable to resist, I suck her delicate skin like I played with her nipple earlier, until she’s arching her back and her tits are pointing at the ceiling. When I release her, I smile at the mark already starting to bruise her neck. Mine.
“Good-bye for now, poppet.” I run my fingers through her ponytail on the way to my briefcase.
After jogging up the stairs, I pause when I reach the door, unable to leave the room without admiring her from this vantage.
She’s still on the table, knees spread, wrists bound in front of her and forcing her massive chest to spill over her arms. The evidence of our fucking is still dripping from her, and her skin is flushed from the things I’ve done to her body. Her muscles and limbs are exhausted from the things I’ve made her do.
Her nipples look well-suckled, the mark on her neck is spreading, and she’s staring at me in a way that makes my inner demon gloat.
She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I could ever want.
And she’s all mine.
What am I doing?
That’s all that keeps repeating through my head. Why didn’t I run? Why didn’t I leave when I had the chance? He was willing to let me escape. Why didn’t I?
The questions keep storming through my mind, but I know the answer. I’ve wanted Luke Faraday from the first day I saw him. I’ve wanted him, and now that I know he wants me too, I can’t walk away.
Even though he scared the shit out of me at first with all that domineering and locking of doors, now I know he’s in on my little secret. I’ve been spying on him for weeks now. He was right—I did touch myself in my car, watching him strip, watching him do much worse . . . just thinking about his naked body, his hand shuttling up and down his cock in front of the window at night . . . my body responded like he’s actually inside me.
He knows about my obsession with him . . . but I know about his obsession with me. Going through my medical files at the campus medical building? If it isn’t illegal, it’s grossly unethical. Not to mention his comment about marking my chair with his cum after the first day of class.
Picturing him doing it, thinking about how I slid into that cum-marked seat the next day makes my nipples harden. He doesn’t miss it. He’s practically gloating, his eyes staring greedily at my tits, knowing what he’s doing to my body. Knowing that despite my best attempts to convince him otherwise, my body is priming itself for him, welcoming him closer, inviting him to take me.
I eye the door one last time—my body even angles toward it—but then I accept my fate. I’m not leaving. I don’t want to. Whatever dark urges he’s driven by, no matter the insatiability of his appetites, I’m his. I always have been.
From the time I first entered this room and fell into his web, I’ve been caught. He’ll have to throw me through that door before I leave it.
My hand moves down my skirt, slips under the hem, and moves up my wet inner thighs.
He reclines back into his chair, wetting his lips as he watches the show I’m giving him. Now that I’m resolved, my inhibitions are gone. Now that I’ve committed to my fate, I’m driven by my desire for him, unable to think of anything but our bodies joining.
I slide a little closer to him before touching myself. I’ve gotten to watch him get off a couple of times already—it’s only fair he gets to watch me. He’s got the goddamn front row seat to the show, so I might as well make it a good one.
Kat Austen is the secret pen name of a New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author. Kat writes short and steamy reads that leave hearts (and other parts) satisfied.