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It’s a miracle I got any sleep at all last night.

I check my phone on the nightstand, and it reads 7:00 a.m., though the room is blanketed in darkness, thanks to the heavy curtains at the windows. It’s disorienting, plunged into darkness when I’m sure outside there’s an early winter sunrise lighting the sky.

Normally, I’d get out of bed and go for a run before preparing for class. But winter break started two days ago, leaving my time open to… what? Enjoy the girl whose virginity I purchased?

I rub a fist over my eyes, dry and itchy, thanks to the little bit of restless slumber I got. What do I do with her? Everything. She wants me just as badly as I want her, so what’s stopping me? You’re her professor, idiot, my brain says. I shove the thought away because if I think too long about it, all of this will have been for nothing.

My morning wood seems to grow the more I think of her. I could walk down the hall and into my bedroom, where she’s peacefully sleeping, and slip it inside her. There would be nothing she could do to stop me—and I doubt she’d want to. She isn’t the first student I’ve had who developed an unfortunate crush. More than once have I been in the awkward position of turning down an advance.

Unfortunately, facts are facts. I’m in no position to take this girl’s virginity. It should be something special, an encounter that takes her lack of experience and her apprehensions into account.

In other words, she should be with any man but me. I can’t remember the last time I had straight-up vanilla sex. Not since the medieval history professor I dated five or six years ago, the woman who introduced me to a world I had only ever brushed up against in random porn videos.

One thing’s for sure: I need to get off this narrow little bed. It’s only here as a prop, somewhere to throw a willing partner down before indulging ourselves in each other. It’s not meant for a night’s sleep, and my back doesn’t thank me as I roll off it and stretch with a groan. I flip on the lights only to make sure I don’t walk into anything, and as always, the Saint Andrew’s cross in the corner catches my eye. Beside it is a cage, and in the center of the room is the spanking bench with its wrist and ankle restraints.

Doubts start to stir. I can’t throw her into this lifestyle. I don’t know if I can be who she needs me to be, who she deserves me to be. No matter how much I want her. She isn’t some random stranger, somebody whose name I’ll never learn and whose face I’ll forget by morning. She’s the girl I’m fairly sure I fell in love with these past few months, no matter how wrong it was and still is.

The bedroom door is closed when I open the guest room door. I’m quiet as I go to the bathroom, then downstairs to fix breakfast. I’m not used to cooking breakfast for a guest, but I have enough in the fridge and pantry to put together a decent spread. I get to work on breakfast, doing my best not to clash dishes together. I’m not sure how she likes her eggs, so I just scramble them and cut up some fruit. Once I have the food made and assembled on a tray, I carry it up to the bedroom.

I use my elbow to knock on the door. “Emma? Are you hungry? I have breakfast.”

“You can come in.” I balance the tray on one hand, long enough to turn the knob, then nudge the door open with my knee.

I almost drop the tray when I see what awaits me on the bed.

She’s like something out of a dirty fantasy. Sprawled out across the bed with the sheets barely covering her tits, one leg completely bare and so damn inviting. She’s lush. Incredibly tempting with her hair spilling over the pillows like a golden fan, eyes wide, and her pouty lips practically begging to be nipped and sucked until she weeps for more.

“Emma,” I whisper. My cock springs to life, throbbing when she shifts slightly and exposes the swell of one full, creamy tit. Her rosy nipple peeks out from over the sheet, teasing me. I have to set the tray down on the dresser to keep from making a mess.

“I’m ready.” She pushes herself up on one elbow. “You told me you didn’t want to do this until I’m ready, but I am. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, from the first day. And I saw the way you were looking at me last night. I don’t really know what to do about it, but I know it when I see it.”

The tempting little tease. She spreads her legs a little, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the slowly exposed bit of flesh between her thighs. Shaved—smooth and glistening. Nobody has ever touched or tasted her. And she wants me to be the first.

“I only want to be fair to you.” How much longer am I supposed to resist her? She’s right there, waiting for me, dying for my touch.

“Don’t I get to decide?”

I lick my suddenly dry lips. It’s impossible to think with all the blood rushing to my cock. It would be so easy. And we have all day. “Has anybody ever done anything to you?”

She shakes her head. “I mean, I’ve touched myself, but that’s it.”

“How the hell have you… never mind, it’s none of my business.” Has she been locked in a convent? With a body like that? And those wide, innocent eyes that draw me in, that pull me toward the bed until I’m standing over her, and she’s looking up at me, and oh, god, I think this is going to happen.

“You know, technically, this isn’t right.”

She bites her lip. “What do you mean?”

“The money hasn’t transferred yet, and you haven’t gotten your portion. Technically, our deal hasn’t been finalized.”

“What does that mean, though?”

I lean down, placing one hand on either side of her head. Her lips part as her excited breathing picks up further, and every frantic beat of her heart sends her scent my way. Sweet, fresh, enticing. “It means there’s no way I’m leaving this room without tasting you, but I’ll leave your virginity intact. For now.”

What am I doing? Pulling the sheet away from her, I indulge in the sight of her perfect body. The morning sunlight dances off her creamy skin, her nipples tightening further as I lower my head to take one into my mouth.


Tags: Darcy Rose Erotic