Dominant Professor
Page 1
Table of Contents
Epilogue
Dominant Professor
Off-Limits
Breaking the Rules
Red-Handed
You want to be my…
Strict Rules
Forbidden Taste
Merciless
Darkness of the Past
Ownership
Fighter
Corruption
Deepest Desires
Caged Beasts
Blood Money
Perfect Shell
Washed
Lone
His Mark
Echo of the Past
Trust
Cold Coffee
Icy
Collision
Buried Lies
Aftermath
Culmination
Home
Thank you from the author :)
Strict Professor
More Than Just a Bruised Ego
Rules, Rules, Rules
Volcanic
Torturous Time
The Test
Burning Up
Pillow Talk
Control
Courting
Red Haired Devil
Steamy
Claimed
Mind and Body
What if?
Game On
Little Black Dress
Hiding in Plain Sight
First Course
Dessert
Awake
Dominant Professor
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events or scales is coincidental.
Dominant Professor deals with mature themes and is suitable for an adult audience. Please note that there is some violence and topics which could be triggering for readers.
All Rights reserved.
Dominant Professor
When you crave the punishment, you break the rules.
Mia Luxe
Contents
Dominant Professor
1. Off-Limits
2. Breaking the Rules
3. Red-Handed
4. You want to be my…
5. Strict Rules
6. Forbidden Taste
7. Merciless
8. Darkness of the Past
9. Ownership
10. Fighter
11. Corruption
12. Deepest Desires
13. Caged Beasts
14. Blood Money
15. Perfect Shell
16. Washed
17. Lone
18. His Mark
19. Echo of the Past
20. Trust
21. Cold Coffee
22. Icy
23. Collision
24. Buried Lies
25. Aftermath
26. Culmination
27. Home
Thank you from the author :)
Mia Luxe
Strict Professor
1. More Than Just a Bruised Ego
2. Rules, Rules, Rules
3. Volcanic
4. Torturous Time
5. The Test
6. Burning Up
7. Pillow Talk
8. Control
9. Courting
10. Red Haired Devil
11. Steamy
12. Claimed
13. Mind and Body
14. What if?
15. Game On
16. Little Black Dress
17. Hiding in Plain Sight
18. First Course
19. Dessert
20. Awake
21. Everything and Nothing
22. Poison
23. Red Ink
24. Calm Within The Storm
25. Perfect Moments
26. Under the Stars
27. Aching
28. Escape
29. Falling
30. Secrets
31. Shards
32. Foundation
33. Damage Control
34. Burner
35. Witness
36. Once and for All
37. Spills Like Blood
38. One Phone Call
39. Crash
40. The Deepest Pain
41. Aftermath
Epilogue
Afterword
Off-Limits
Connor - Thursday, October 30th
She needs to be taught discipline. Her police file is a damn sight thicker than any 18 year old’s has a right to be. Shoplifting. Vandalism. Even arson. She bats her eyes at the judge and the charges disappear.
Now she’s on academic probation, failing four of her five classes.
Problem is, she’s got an A+ in mine.
Willow is a tantalizing, off limits mystery. On the outside, she’s sweet perfection. Flushed pink cheeks and full, pouting lips. Her perfect body, 18 years old and a decade younger than me.
I know the submissive desires she hides.
I lean back in my office chair and thumb through papers until I get to hers. The October rain beats against the window, steadily drumming as my eyes skim over her report.
All I see is her.
She brings out the animal in me.
The side of me that wants to dominate. Own.
I’m going to make her mine. Every time I see her it’s harder to fight back the urge to claim her.
She wants me, needs me so bad she can’t think straight when I lecture. I’ve seen her eyes roam up and down my body. I’ve seen her hunger mirror mine.
I know what she wants. I know what she needs.
In three years of teaching at West Coast University, I’ve never been tempted by a student. Oh, there have been beautiful young women that simper up to me in the hallways. Freshman girls taking my class every year ogle me, and a couple of the bolder ones have tried to seduce me in my office. None of them have been successful.
Willow is different.
It’s like I’ve had a slow burn in me that she’s poured gasoline on.
Every other professor at WCU has a Ph. d. I’m teaching criminal psychology with a Masters. The university made an exception for me based on my “first-hand expertise.”
If I wasn’t an expert, I’d be dead right now.
“First-hand expertise.” Three tidy words summing up my short, brutal career in the police force. Two years living undercover. Two years infiltrating the Maturi crime family, getting them to trust me like a brother.
Two years of living a life where one wrong move meant ending up in a ditch with a bullet in the back of my head.
I took down the Maturi crime family. I broke up their international human smuggling ring, and I barely got out of it with my life. The twin scars on my chest remind me of the night it all ended.
After two years of undercover work, I needed to live a normal life. The police are my brothers, but I left the force at 23. I got my masters and started working for WCU, consulting with the police and FBI on the side.
Consulting and teaching is a good place for me. There’s a barrier between me and the dark violence humanity is capable of. I can research and lecture at the university while offering criminal profiles to law enforcement. Detectives like me better than the eggheads who want to tell them how to do their jobs.
They know I lived the life. I’ve got the scars to prove it.
If you asked me at 28 what I’d be doing, I’d have said busting down doors and knocking heads together.
Not sitting in a university office, grading paper after paper.
These last five years are an empty blur compared to the two years I spent undercover.
I used up all the color in my life to st
ay alive. Those two years drained it all out of me. Now every day is simple. Routine.
Routine. That’s what I wanted, isn’t it?
Some nights, the memories of those two years boil over in my head and I can’t sleep, or worse, I wake up in cold sweats. Look too deep into the abyss, and the abyss looks back, the darkness reaching out and trying to snatch your soul. If you aren’t willing to bend the rules, hell, sometimes break them, the bad guys walk.
The things I did…
Those days are over. I can’t live in the past forever.
For the first time in five years, I feel a surge of hope. When I’m near Willow, the world is in focus. Crisp and precise.
It’s not technically legal to read your student’s police file. Legality is a grey area when you’ve got connections in the force.
I was impressed by how thick it is, even more impressed by how nothing ever stuck on her. She went up in front of a judge two separate times and walked. Whenever she’s in my office asking me questions about my lectures, all 5 foot nothing and barely a hundred and twenty pounds of distilled sex turning on the charm, I can see how she wriggled her way out of juvy or jail time.
She showed up to my first class in an outfit that screamed “I don’t care”. She wore a baggy sweatshirt and pants, yawning in the back row. Willow was obviously hungover from a dorm party, and I could tell she barely dragged herself out of bed and to my class.
She could have been dressed in a potato sack and she still would have had the same effect on me. I couldn’t keep my eyes from burning holes into her. The second I started my lecture, her bored look turned into rapt attention.
Next class, she had a different look. She sat in the front row so I wouldn’t miss it.
A tight short-sleeved ribbed knit sweater hugged her pert breasts. Her short navy blue skirt rode scandalously high up her thigh, and she crossed and uncrossed her legs deliberately as I lectured, making me pause in my words as I imagined her tight, untouched pussy. Her perfect young body makes the animal in me growl and fight to take control, the animal in me that wants to grab her hips and thrust every inch of my cock deep inside her and fill her with my seed.
I’m going to feel her legs wrap around me as I pound her into a whimpering, mewling mess of pleasure until she can never be satisfied without me.
My cock surges powerfully as I sit at my desk, all the blood racing into it as I ache to take her.
I’m going to take her perfect, 18-year old body and turn her into a toy for me, fill her with my cum and claim her.
I rip my mind out of the fantasy and back to the paper in front of me.
It’s pure brilliance.
I asked my students to write a two-page essay on what draws criminals into organized crime. Willow’s reads like a graduate-level response.
She’s the top student in my class, but she’s going to be kicked out of university if she doesn’t shape up.
She's been running wild for her entire young life.
She's wasting her potential, wasting her brilliant mind drinking and partying.
I’m going to teach her discipline.
Breaking the Rules
Willow - Friday October 31st
I want professor Connor Bold to take my virginity. I don’t want to “lose” my virginity to him. I want him to take it. I can see the hunger in his eyes when he looks at me, a dark, animal hunger that gives me a window into his soul. He isn’t like anyone I’ve ever seen before. He certainly isn’t like the two meatheads in my dorm room.
I’m surrounded by boys, and he is a man.
The vodka burns as I drain the red solo cup and slam it down on the table. Shelly, my dorm-mate, is trying her best to keep pace. She’s gentle but naïve, and she’s had five different guys over since the semester started. The two football players sitting on the other side of our little table are so alike they could be twins, short dark hair and thick muscular bodies. Cody and Kevin don’t even try to conceal their lust as they stare at me.
Pigs.
I can’t blame them, not really. It’s Halloween, and I’m wearing a slutty costume. Not a revealing costume, not a scandalous costume. A slutty costume.
I’m wearing a tiny little plaid skirt paired with a tight white top tied together at the front. My pure white stockings stretch up past my knees, and the pigtails and scarlet lipstick complete the look.
I’m the dirty little fantasy. The sexy schoolgirl.
I thought of professor Bold as I picked out the outfit, thought of him as I put it on. I pictured his strong jawline, his tall, muscular body, his commanding, dominant presence.
If only I was confident enough to show up to his office hours wearing this, just to see professor Bold’s reaction.
Would he be able to resist breaking the rules?
Imagining his eyes devouring me as I stood before him. Imagining his hand coming down hard on my ass.
The thought makes me wriggle in my seat.
Kevin lets out a burp, bringing me back to reality. He reaches forward to grab the bottle of vodka.
“Alright ladies, one more shot and let’s hit the road.”
Shelly groans.
“No way. I’m not taking another shot!”
Kevin leers at Shelly, sloshing the liquid back and forth in the vodka bottle.
“Oh hell yes you are. I could run my god-damn Dodge Charger on this rocket fuel! We’re going to take it down like champions.”
He pours a healthy dose of liquid fire into all four of our red solo cups over Shelly’s protests. My throat is still roiling from the last shot, but I’m determined to keep up with these two meatheads. When you can’t have what you want, you can always have vodka.
Because I can’t have what I want. Connor Bold might let his eyes wander over my body, but he wouldn’t touch a student.
Cody and Kevin stand up at the same time, holding their glasses high. They both had the brilliant idea to dress up as, you guessed it, football players for Halloween. While Shelly’s cat costume lacks creativity, I doubt anyone is going to be looking at her cat ears when her massive breasts are pressed together in her push-up bra.
Maybe if I had boobs like her I could seduce professor Bold. Who am I kidding? Connor Bold is Adonis incarnate. We’ve been alone in his office together, and while he might let his eyes stray, he doesn’t want me bad enough to break the rules.
“Bottoms up!” Cody yells like he’s trying to fire us up to tackle a quarterback and downs his huge helping of hard alcohol. I cheers with Shelly, and she downs the shot, screwing up her face adorably and pressing her eyes shut as she shakes her head from the burn. The vodka sears my throat and goes straight to my brain. It’s only 10 PM and I am well on my way to wasted.
Good. My older sisters are giving out candy in their perfect suburban lives with their perfect lawyer and doctor husbands. As if they didn’t get their perfect lives from dad’s dirty money. I will never, ever live a life like them.
The vision of my older sisters perfect, happy white picket fence lives gives me a taste far worse than hard alcohol.
“One more for the road,” I say, hearing the slur in my own voice. Kevin and Cody exchange knowing nods to each other.
“Willow, are you crazy? We just did two in a row!”
“You don’t need to take this one,” I say, patting Shelly’s arm.
“I never refuse someone as hot as you,” says Cody bluntly, reaching out for the almost empty bottle of vodka and pouring the remaining liquid into our three cups. We take it down without pause, and I am in that perfect state of drunkenness, the place where nothing can hurt you.
We rush through the rain to the party two buildings down. The wave of sound and people hits me as we enter the Halloween dorm party. Cody’s got his hands on me, wanting everyone to know that I’m “taken”. I let him because I don’t care either way, and I feel like I’m not even there, just an image of a person who dances, drinks, and laughs. The night starts to blur in and out. One moment I’m dancing, the next I
’m pushing Cody away as he tries to force his tongue down my throat, the next I’m laughing with an utterly shit-faced Shelly as she downs another shot.
“I’m totally… going to blow Kevin,” she says, slurring, her make-up starting to smear around her eyes.
“That guy is an asshole,” I say, “they both are.”
“An asshole with a big dick. He sent me a picture,” she says, pulling out her phone and dropping it on the ground. She picks it up with a giggle when Kevin makes his way back with two more shots. He’s lost his shirt somewhere, his muscular body gleaming with sweat. Cody is off in the crowd somewhere, grinding up against another girl dressed as skimpily as me.
“I don’t know if I can drink any more,” says Shelly, slurring, and Kevin laughs.
“More for me!” He downs both shots in quick succession, beats his chest like a gorilla, and pulls Shelly onto the dance floor.
I’ve drunk way too much, even for me. I’m blacking out, losing hours of the night into a blur of dancing and drinking. When I snap out of it I’m in my dorm room, Shelly crying on my lap, her make-up running down her face in black streaks.
“That fucking… that fucking asshole! I can’t believe he sent out pictures of me!”