by Madison Faye
I think they both could see it on my face that this wasn’t some sordid affair, or a mistake, or some sort of experimentation.
It was real, right there on my face, and they knew it.
And here we are a week later, and it’s like the sun’s gone away.
A week later, and everything’s changed. Liam’s gone, and I’ve been told part of his pending charges from the college involve him not being in contact with me; phones, email, all of it. Plus he’s been barred from campus. And that’s the worst part, not knowing where he is or what’s going on.
I should feel scandalized - and believe me, there’s plenty of scandal surrounding it - just from walking around campus, but I just don’t care.
Because I just want him. The looks, the arched eyebrows, the whispers - none of it matters, because I know how I feel. And I know what happened between Liam and I might be frowned upon, but it wasn’t wrong. I know that now. It’s something people might not understand, but that doesn’t make it bad.
I’m in class - his class - but of course, it’s not Liam up a the podium anymore. Susan, the department head has taken over Liam’s lectures, and so it’s her up there now, talking about who knows what. Because I can’t focus, especially here in this room that reminds me of him. I’m no longer sitting front and center like I did before, because, well, I just can’t.
Susan is mid-sentence when the door to the lecture hall suddenly slams open, and my heart jumps right up into my throat.
It’s Liam. Here, standing right there and looking right at me.
Susan whirls as he storms in and starts to shake her head and wag her finger. “Oh no, Mr. Martin! You are not supposed to-”
“Uh-huh,” he growls dismissively, moving right past her and never taking his deep dark eyes off of me.
There’s a titter through the crowd of assembled students, but I barely even hear them over the roar of my pulse in my ears.
He’s here, he came back.
He came back for me.
“Mr. Martin!” Susan’s voice is shrill as she scowls at him with her hands on her hips. “I suggest you leave immediately!”
He stops at the front of the class, looking up at the theater seating to where I’m sitting towards the back of the room.
“Mr. Mar-”
“Oh, shut it,” he says, shushing Susan. He winks as he looks up at me, and I’m standing before I can stop myself, totally ignoring the whispers and the shocked gasps around me as I do.
“Ellie Thompson?” Liam’s eyes blaze as he starts to climb the stairs to where I am, his eyes never leaving mine. There’s a gasp from the crowd, but I’m not even seeing them as I push past people in my row and start to move down the stairs towards him.
“Mr. Martin!” Susan shrieks from behind him. “Miss Thompson, sit down!”
But her words wash right over me, and the room almost fades away in slow motion as I’m suddenly crashing into his arms. He’s kissing me, and I’m crying as I throw my arms around him and kiss him back.
He pulls back, those dark, brooding eyes looking right into me. “I love you,” he says, his voice even. “I love you, Ellie, and I’m never going to stop loving you.”
And right then, nothing else matters. Right then, the final piece clicks into place, and despite the whispers and the giggles and the pointed fingers, it’s perfect.
“I love you too,” I whisper into his lips before moaning as he kisses me again.
“You know,” I say, grinning as I pull back. “I’m pretty sure you’re barred from campus.”
“Oh, I’m positive I am.”
I giggle, biting my lip and slowly shaking my head as I stare up at him, right there on the lecture hall steps. “So what are you doing here?”
I shriek as he picks me up suddenly in his arms and whirls us around to the the gasps and cat calls of the crowd as he starts to carry me down the stairs. “Sweeping you of your feet and stealing you away from here,” he says.
“Sounds perfect to me.”
Epilogue
Ellie
And steal me away he did, from the small town college to the big city - New York, actually. Four years later, and we’re still here, and still wildly happy
The initial fallout was bad, of course, and even my parents with being as cool as they are weren’t exactly happy to see me drop out of an ivy league school with a full scholarship. Of course, when I got into another one, they got on board with the situation. It took some finagling, but after I left Hardham, I managed to transfer my credits and qualify for academic scholarship stuff at Columbia for the next semester, which is where I ended up finishing out my undergraduate degree.
It helps that I had a glowing recommendation letter from my English professor.
Ally was pissed, of course, when she found out I was leaving, but she got it. She ended up meeting a wonderful guy of her own that next semester, and as it turns out, she ended up getting a job offer here in New York when she graduated.
Ted lasted exactly three more weeks at Hardham after I left before he got busted trying to slip something into a girl’s drink at a party. He was arrested on drug and intent to assault charges and kicked out of school.
Liam’s hard at work in our living room, writing his newest book. And I know he’s on a deadline with the tour for the smash hit he wrote right after we moved here, but I’m sorry to say that’s not going to stop me.
Besides, I’m six months pregnant and the hormones are crazy.
He chuckles as he feels me come up behind him and rub his shoulders, but his tone changes as I slip my hands down into his lap and rub his cock through his pants.
“Honey, I need to write.”
“Oh do you?”
He turns and groans as he sees me in the plaid skirt, the knee-high socks, and the glasses, with my hair up in pigtails. “Too busy for the little school girl you knocked up?” I say, rubbing the bump on my bare belly beneath my full breasts which have somehow gotten even bigger and more sensitive with the pregnancy.
His eyes flare as he sees me, and I shiver at that hungry wolfish look he gets in his eyes. “Nope. Work’s done.”
He slams the laptop shut, and I giggle as he scoops me up and pushes me back onto the couch behind me. I gasp as he pushes my skirt up and growls at my bare pussy, and then I’m crying out as his tongue slides into my wet lips. His hands are strong on my thighs, pushing my legs back as he pushes his tongue deep into my aching pussy.
“Mmm, not so fast, mister,” I groan, pushing him back and sitting up. I tug at his belt and push his jeans down over his hips, cooing as his thick cock bounces out. I let my tongue slip out, wetting my lips as I dip my head to take him in my mouth.
But he’s pulling me around, and I whimper as I feel him slide my body up to his mouth and settle me above him as his tongue delves back between my legs. I moan loudly and then lean forward to wrap my plump lips around his cock, slurping wetly at the head and letting my hands stroke his shaft and his big, heavy balls. I moan around him as he tongues my clit, and I can feel my nipples dragging electrically over his abs.
I can feel Liam swelling up in my mouth, and I can feel my own body begin to tense and writhe as his tongue drives me up to that edge. But then he’s pulling away from me and spinning me around. I moan as I feel him position my hips over his, and when his fat cock begins to slide deep inside of me, I cry out and rake my nails down his chest.
“You know, pretty soon, you’re not going to want me like this, when I’m all huge,” I say, biting my lip as I start to ride up and down his shaft.
“Dream on, honey,” he growls, thrusting deep inside of me. “There will never be a day when I get tired of fucking this perfect, tight little pussy.” I moan as his hands come up to my big, full breasts, cupping them and letting his fingers roll over my nipples. He starts to pump up inside me harder and deeper, and I can feel my whole body begin to melt around him.
Liam groans, and I can feel his cock start to swell inside of me as I start to lose it
.
“Now, come for me baby,” he growls into my lips, his hand cupping my breasts and his cock driving into me again and again as I start to fall. “Come all over my big cock.”
I cry out, and feel him erupt inside of me, his hot cum filling me. I bring my lips to his ear as the orgasm tears through me. “Yes, Professor.”
The End
Sugar & Spice
Sugar & Spice
A little bit sweet and a whole lot of naughty.
Colin:
She shouldn’t have been there that night. She never should have lied her way into that club and stepped into my world.
She’s off-limits – too pure, too sweet, too innocent – too good for a man of my tastes.
But she did, wearing that dress, wrapping her sweet lips around the straw of the cocktail in her hand, and looking at me like that. Just a taste of that pure, innocent sweetness, and now I HAVE to have her.
I have to own her – dominate her, make her scream and make her beg for more.
A man like me shouldn’t be anywhere near a girl like her - but that’s why I want her. That’s why I want to bend her over my knee and take her every way I please.
She’s been very, very bad - and bad girls get punished
Isabella:
I know I’ve been naughty. A good girl like me had no business in a dark and dangerous nightclub like that. No business flirting with a man like that.
But I’m tired of being good. For just one night I wanted a taste of something else – something toe-curlingly bad and deliciously sinful. So I let go completely and let the gorgeous, rough stranger take what he wanted from me, piece by piece.
Except now, the man who stripped me of my reservations, my hesitations, and my innocence is standing right in front of me.
In his office. Hiring me.
Bringing me into his world.
Telling me there are rules.
And good girls follow the rules...right?
Sugar & Spice is a hot, steamy read involving a very dominant and totally obsessed alpha hero – hell bent on having her submission. This one’s a little bit nice and a whole lot of naughty – so make sure Santa isn’t watching! A very sweet HEA, plenty of steam and heat along the way, and no cheating!
Happy Holidays
Copyright © 2016 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
Editing: Sennah Tate
Cover: White Rabbit Creative
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
Chapter 1
Isabella
“We abide by rules in this house.”
His voice was honey and scotch; the deep pull of a haunting cello. Clean and crisp, it resonated against the lush wood, leather, and marble of the room.
I swallowed heavily and nodded.
There were nine of us in the richly furnished, darkly lit study. Me, seven other college-aged girls just like me, and him.
Despite being just one of the nine people in the room, he took up ninety-nine percent of the air in the room.
His lingered over each of us as he purred the words. “Is that clear?”
One of the girls, a brunette standing a few applicants down from me, nodded quickly.
“Absolutely Mr.—”
“Sir.”
His words sliced through the room, cutting her off and making her lips snap shut before she frowned and turned to him.
“Wait, seriously?”
I felt something inside of me clutch up at her casual tone, and I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to open my own mouth and tell her, “Shh! That’s not how you speak to him!”
Because I knew. Maybe the rest of the applicants thought I was just another stranger to him — just one more vaguely anonymous applicant.
Except I wasn’t. We were not strangers.
Well, we were — to an extent — but that’s not to say we didn’t know each other. Not in the usual sense, at least. I didn’t know what his favorite color was, his favorite song, or what type of books he read.
I knew his drink was scotch, but that was just a tip of the iceberg.
Because in that room, with the seven other applicants, I was willing to bet I was the only girl that knew how Colin Kensington’s cock tasted.
I was willing to bet I was the only one who knew how he fucked.
And he knew I knew that. He hadn’t — not at first when he’d first strode into the study to address the potential au pairs. God, I didn’t know who he was until he recognized it. How in the world could I have ever imagined that that man, from that night would be him? Colin Kensington, famously secret billionaire investor.
Famously secret billionaire investor and my potential employer. The interview was set up by Dr. Rice, my freshman academic advisor at Harvard. That’s who I’d thought I was meeting this evening at his lavish townhouse up on Beacon Hill. The wealthy friend of my economics professor who needed someone to watch and care for his children for the holidays. One with a strong educational background, a valid passport, and fluency in French.
That’s who I’d expected.
What I had not expected, was him. Him being the man from the nightclub a week before. Him being the dark, dominant, arrogant and panty-meltingly gorgeous stranger that made me throw away all reason.
I was five minutes into a very important job interview, and I wanted to sink into the floor.
And he knew it.
He’d stepped into that study, started speaking, and my heart jumped into my throat. He’d closed the door, asked us all to stand in a line, and stepped in front of us. His eyes moved over each of us until for one single second, something in that armor of his cracked when his eyes landed on me.
And then he knew.
And he’d grinned.
And now here was this other girl, questioning him? I wanted to laugh. Because I knew what speaking to him like that would bring out. I knew the dominant, demanding way that man got exactly what he wanted.
I’d thrown away every last bit of my reason with him a week before at that nightclub. My reason, my caution, and most importantly, the last cloying shreds of my innocence.
“Excuse me?” The crisp English in his accent was edged in steel as he paused, turning slightly to look at the girl who’d spoken up.
The girl immediately looked like she’d realized her mistake. It was too late, of course.
“I will be addressed as sir,” he purred, moving to stand directly in front of her — towering over the small girl and leveling that steely sharp gray gaze at her.
“I— Yes, of course,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to the floor in front of her. “You’ll be addressed as sir.”
The corners of his lips turned up slightly in a smile as he nodded. “Yes. But not by you, I’m afraid.”
She looked up quickly. “What?”
“Andrew will see you out.”
She blinked as the rest of us and quickly looked straight ahead. “Oh, I—”
“Now.”
He nodded at the door to the study behind us, and she almost looked like she wanted to say something else. Instead, she whirled around and ran for the door.
That’s what speaking to him like that would bring out, because Colin Kensington got exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.
And again, I knew this, because of the weekend before at the nightclub I had no business being at. The nightclub where he’d gotten exactly what he wanted from me in the stall of the women’s room. And though I’d given it to him, he’d taken it from me, gasp by gasp, and whimpered moan by whimpered moan.
He’d demanded it from my body and left me begging for more.
The door shut on the girl who’d spoken out, and he turned. “Now then, shall we continue?”
Sure, why not. Let’s continue with one of the most important interviews of my life with the man from that night.
The man who’d whispered those filthy things in my ear. The man who’d stripped me of my reservations and hesitations. The man who’d taken the last bits of my reason, my caution, and my innocence.
Oh, right.
And the man who’d taken my v-card, seven days ago, in a nightclub bathroom.
What the hell was I getting myself into?
Chapter 2
Isabella
“As I was saying, we abide by rules in this house. Is that understood?”
My breath drew in as he paused right in front of me. I couldn’t look up — simply couldn’t. I couldn’t look into those eyes, because I knew if I did, I’d be melting for him all over again.
“Is that understood,” he murmured, this time directly to me.
I nodded, still not looking up at him. “Absolutely, sir.”
I could almost feel him smile slightly before he moved on past me, and the breath I’d been holding inside came rushing out when he did.
“I do apologize if I seem overly formal but this is, after all, a job interview is it not?” His voice was crisp, resonating, and staunchly accented in a sharp English enunciation born of high education, which caressed it with a gilded edge of wealth and prestige. I looked up then, thankful that his eyes were moving over all of us instead of being leveled at me. He raised an eyebrow, with the smallest glimmer of a smile in the corner of his eyes, before he finally did turn and look directly at me.