Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
But my mind is on what just happened and all I can hear is that’s what daddy likes to hear.
“Thank you,” he says. “Yep, I’ll see you there.”
The door closes, and he greets me with a chuckle. “You can come out of hiding for now.”
I look up at him, but he’s only matter-of-factly gathering things up on his desk, as if we’ve just had a tutoring session, and he didn’t just light my world on fire with the hottest spanking of my life. He tucks papers into a folder, then slides them into a briefcase bag before looking up at me.
“Tonight’s assignment, Giada?”
I look at my notes. “Send you a sample of my fictional work,” I stammer. Oh, God. He wants to see what I’ve written. He knows I’ve dreamed about being dominated and explored those dreams in my writing. How can I send this to him?
But if I hadn’t let him in on my dirty little secret last night, would he have spanked me today?
“Good job,” he says.
I miss good girl. But I suppose that’s likely earned.
“And if you come to class late tomorrow, what happens?”
My cheeks pink when I look at him. He’s staring at me from beneath dark brows.
“I—you’ll punish me.”
He nods and crosses his arms on his chest. “With what?”
With what? He didn’t say. Oh, wait.
My voice cracks when I answer. “Um, you said you’d paddle me.”
He nods, all stern and sexy dom. “Then you know what to do. Unless you want a paddling, you’ll come to class tomorrow and behave yourself. Go, now.” He points to the door, effectively dismissing me. I gather my things and practically run.
Did he just dare me?
Chapter Four
Geoff
I try to work this off at the gym, but I’ve got a case of blue balls I can’t fucking ignore. I hit the punching bag with vigor, trying to forget the sight of her bent over my desk, ass on display. The sight of my handprint on her bare skin. The way she panted when I spanked her, a girl who needs a firm hand if ever I saw one.
She’s my fucking student.
I shake my head and punch the bag again, welcoming the ache in my arms and abs from the pounding I’m giving this, but my hard-on and frustration don’t abate. Swearing under my breath, I get dressed, head home, and out of pure necessity, rub one off in the shower.
A man has to cope, after all.
I want to go to Verge, but I have a crazy amount of papers to grade. Though my assignments are lighter in the summer, and I only have a few classes, the classes are intense, so we cover a lot of ground in a short time period. I can’t let myself drown in it if I get behind.
But I know what’s waiting for me in that inbox if she’s behaved herself.
Christ, the way she called me daddy. I don’t know her at all, but I know I need to know her better. Teach her to mind me. Teach her her place.
And damn it all to hell, I was gonna apply for faculty chair in the fall.
How can I bring myself to do that, when all I can focus on is how badly I need to dominate my student, and get her into Club Verge without anyone realizing who she is?
After I shower, I change and sit at the table, I tell myself now I’m going to focus. My conscience plagues me, though. I screwed up today, big time. Teachers don’t fraternize with students, and they most definitely do not bend them over the desk to spank them. If the department chair found out… I shake my head and open up my laptop. First, I want to check last night’s Yankees score.
My phone beeps, indicating an email, so I open it up quickly, then grin as I see a message from Giada showing up in my inbox. I’ll enjoy her chastely while she’s under my care. I mean, all I did was spank her. It wasn’t like I fucked her.
Yet, chides a little voice in my head.
I click the email, eyes widening as I read, and read, and read.
Yeah, this was not my imagination. Hell, she’s letting me into hers.
“On your knees, little sub,” says Master Steel. “I’ll give you a good use for that naughty mouth of yours.”
As I read the torrid scene, complete with vivid imagery and a physical description of the club, I’m struck dumb. Though she doesn’t describe every detail, I can provide ample details for the rest of this as well. The private rooms, the kinky toys and implements at one’s disposal.
The way she describes the inside of this club, I realize pretty quickly I can picture this club because I know this club. I know the shiny black door that lets me enter. Hell, I’ve stood guard at that door as bouncer so many times I’ve lost count. I know where the bar is to the left and the pool tables and community area to the right. I know the tables where people sit and mingle before they make their way to the dungeon or private rooms.