Hot For Teacher(109)

“Please, harder,” I gasp.

He kisses my neck, his tongue rolling over my soft skin.

“I need to feel every last inch of you.”

He speeds up, fucking me hard and rough, and I love it. I never knew this could feel so damn good. He’s hitting my every spot, and without warning, my pussy contracts. I scream, clutching my arms around his neck. He stills as we both feel relief together.

I feel him tense before I see the look on his face. Realization seeps in and the reality of what just happened hits him hard. Even when we’re trying to stay away from each other, it’s apparent that we can’t. There is something there, something more powerful than the both of us.

“Fuck. Fuck, Jill, we shouldn’t have done that,” he swears, leaping off the couch and running a hand through his hair. I’m angry at his resistance, and turned on by the sight of his naked form in front of me. My body tingles.

“Why did you come here?” I respond angrily. Jesus Christ… trust him to turn something beautiful into something ugly.

Eli works on doing his pants back up and walks toward the way he came in. Opening the door, he stops but doesn’t turn around. “I’m sorry, Jill, but we shouldn’t be doing this. I think you need to transfer out of my class.”

He’s gone before I can respond. The minute the door closes, a loud sob wracks from my body and I throw myself on the floor. My heart has shattered and I’m angry. There is no fucking way I’m changing classes.

He is all I care about.

I love him. Holy shit, I’m in love with him.

The reality of my realization hits me, and I crack. I’m a mess. I’m a fucking, sobbing mess.

The End





We hope you enjoyed the prequel to Rewriting History, a full-length novel releasing on the 7th November, 2015.

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Debating Number Ten

By

Amalie Silver





Chapter One


Present Day

Red toenails.

High arches.

Thin ankles.

Black stockings.

I had never wanted a woman more than I wanted Katie Shields—or ‘Miss Shields,’ as I had been forced to always call her.

Until this moment.

My eyes wander higher to her calves, knees, and thighs as she sits on a white Chippendale chair at her vanity. I can almost taste her desperation from across the room as she stares me down with her hungry eyes.

We’ve both waited for this moment for too long.

As she stands, she wastes no time in removing her clothes, and my dick twitches as I continue to watch from my place on the bed. She’s putting on this show for me: each movement thought out, a slow torture.

After her clothes come off she stands in front of me with one finger in her mouth, looking down innocently at the bra and panties that remain. But if my prediction is correct, she’ll leave them on for a while to taunt my imagination.

Her hand trails from her mouth to her cleavage, and her fingers brush between her perfect tits. My eyes sweep across her flat stomach and down to her black panties, where her thighs rub together in anticipation.

“Touch me, Simon,” she pleads.

My eyes remain hooded as I rise from the bed. I take my time strolling toward her, staying in control the entire time, reassuring her that I’m in command of this. The air leaves her chest, defining her ribs, making her breasts peak and her stance straighten.

There’s a slight apprehension in her eyes, an excited fear of the unexpected. It’s a suspense that tickles both of our insides. And the smallest sound, taste, smell, or touch makes our skin feel like it’s on sensory overload.

I reach my hand out to tuck a dark tendril of hair behind her ear, and her eyes flutter shut at my touch. I grip her chin and jerk her eyes to mine.

“Shame on you for making me wait so long.” My firm hold keeps her head still, and I wait until her eyes grow lazy in submission before I appraise her body. Her skin is tan and supple, her lips red and plump. And her nipples poke through the satin of her bra.

I motion with a flick of my chin toward the bed. “Lie down.”

She nods timidly and crawls on top of the sheets.

“Stay there. Just like that.” Her ass is straight up in the air and her thighs are spread slightly as she waits for me.

She’s so beautiful. Everything about her is perfection. She’s my ideal woman in every way: from the small divot in her chin to her long black silky hair. To think I’ve come as far as I have since the first day I laid eyes on her makes my chest expand with pride. But I need to take this slow—slower than my greedy hands and dick have planned.

To think about a woman for so long, so hard, and with such intensity; I’ve played this moment over in my head thousands of times. Now that I’m finally here, I need to savor her so that she’s guaranteed to return for more. I can’t blow this.