Bad Boy Valentine: The Hard and Dirty Holidays

by Aaron, Celia

  As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.

  Buy Now

  COMING JANUARY 19, 2016

  Magnate

  Acquisition Series, Book Two

  Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.

  The Forced Series

  Out Now

  Forced by the Kingpin

  Forced Series, Book 1

  I've been on the trail of the local mob kingpin for months. I know his haunts, habits, and vices. The only thing I didn't know was how obsessed he was with me. Now, caught in his trap, I'm about to find out how far he and his local cop-on-the-take will go to keep me silent.

  Forced by the Professor

  Forced Series, Book 2

  I've been in Professor Stevens' class for a semester. He's brilliant, severe, and hot as hell. I haven't been particularly attentive, prepared, or timely, but he hasn't said anything to me about it. I figure he must not mind and intends to let me slide. At least I thought that was the case until he told me to stay after class today. Maybe he'll let me off with a warning?

  Forced by the Hitmen

  Forced Series, Book 3

  I stayed out of my father's business. His dirty money never mattered to me, so long as my trust fund was full of it. But now I've been kidnapped by his enemies and stuffed in a bag. The rough men who took me have promised to hurt me if I make a sound or try to run. I know, deep down, they are going to hurt me no matter what I do. Now I'm cuffed to their bed. Will I ever see the light of day again?

  Forced by the Stepbrother

  Forced Series, Book 4

  Dancing for strange men was the biggest turn on I'd ever known. Until I met him. He was able to control me, make me hot, make me need him, with nothing more than a look. But he was a fantasy. Just another client who worked me up and paid my bills. Until he found me, the real me. Now, he's backed me into a corner. His threats and promises, darkly whispered in tones of sex and violence, have bound me surer than the cruelest ropes. At first I was unsure, but now I know – him being my stepbrother is the least of my worries.

  Forced by the Quarterback

  Forced Series, Book 5

  For three years, I'd lusted after Jericho, my brother's best friend and quarterback of our college football team. He's never paid me any attention, considering me nothing more than a little sister he never had. Now, I'm starting freshman year and I'm sharing a suite with my brother. Jericho is over all the time, but he'll never see me as anything other than the shy girl he met three years ago. But that's not who I am. Not really. To get over Jericho – and to finally get off – I’ve arranged a meeting with HardcoreDom. If I can't have Jericho, I'll give myself to a man who will master me, force me, and dominate me the way I desperately need.

  Forced by the Professor

  Forced Series

  Celia Aaron

  Forced by the Professor

  Celia Aaron

  Copyright © 2015 Celia Aaron

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Celia Aaron. Please do not participate in piracy of books or other creative works.

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, place and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Please store your files wisely, away from under-aged readers. This book contains situations involving forced seduction and dubious consent. If these are triggers for you, it’s likely best for you to avoid this story. If not, get the popcorn and enjoy.

  Forced by the Professor

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter One

  Professor Stevens

  She was late. Again. I ground my teeth and continued the lecture.

  “Mr. Drake, tell me what level of scrutiny applies to fundamental rights?”

  The student popped his mousy brown mop up from behind his laptop. “Um, I think—”

  “You aren’t here to think Mr. Drake. You’re here to learn. You’re failing miserably at both, in any case.” I made a show of striking through his name on my list of class participation grades.

  Humiliating a student did nothing to take the edge off, to stifle my need to punish her. I forced myself to keep discussing constitutional law instead of looking at the wooden door leading to the hall. Where was she?

  “Strict scrutiny, Mr. Drake. The highest form of scrutiny is applied when the government seeks to make any law that would infringe on fundamental rights—”

  The door swung open. She strolled in, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was forty-five minutes late to a fifty minute class. Her blonde hair was pulled half up, the rest allowed to flow down her back. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I knew they were green. Her tits were large and plump, peeking over the top of her white tank top. I bet her nipples were a dark pink. Her pussy even pinker.

  She climbed the risers to her seat. Her far too short black skirt swayed when she moved, and her heels made her ass jut out perfectly. I wanted to bury my face in it and lick until she screamed.

  She had neither books nor a laptop in her arms.

  All forty students in the room focused on her. The men gaped as did some of the women. I gripped the podium until my knuckles turned white. She was mine. All mine. All the gawkers – male and female – needed to know they had no chance with her.

  I wanted to work violence on each one of them that dared to look at her. Instead, I stayed put behind the podium out of necessity, my cock having leapt to attention with the first inkling that she was near.

  The tables formed a horseshoe in the room, eight rows of them, each higher than the last. She was in the middle, where the rows were extra far apart. I could see her tits, her face. I could also see her skirt, her legs, her hooker heels.

  “You’re late, Ms. Finnegan.” I gave her a hard look.

  She needed discipline. I would be the one to give it to her. She tempted me day in, day out. Showing up to class late. Playing on her cell phone while I lectured. Never turning in homework. And then she wore the most provocative clothing, just to get to me.

  Her cocktease was about to come to an end. I was going to take her, one way or another. I wanted my hands around her throat, constricting her as I rammed my cock so deep into her that my balls slapped against her ass with every stroke. But before I even got to that, I planned on giving her the lashes she deserved. Every single one.

  “Sorry, professor.” She smiled innocently, her red lips spreading to reveal her even, white teeth. “Car trouble.”

  “Well, Ms. Finnegan, can you tell me what level of scrutiny applies when a government makes a law affecting the right to vote?”

  She looked down at her empty desk before slyly looking back up at me. “I seem to have forgotten my book and my notes, professor.”

  I scrubbed a shaking hand down my face. Fuck, I wanted to discipline her righ
t then and there in front of everyone. “Ms. Finnegan, you are aware of the rules of my classroom, are you not?”

  She smiled again, but didn’t speak. Infuriating.

  “You are aware that you are expected to—”

  She casually let her legs fall open slightly beneath the table. She wasn’t wearing any panties. In the shadow between her milky thighs, I got a glimpse of blonde curls and sweet, sweet pink. I stifled a groan.

  “I’m really sorry, professor.” She smiled again.

  “We’ll continue this lecture on Thursday. If I discover that any single one of you has failed to prepare for my class, I will mark everyone down half a letter grade.”

  The students erupted in complaints. I didn’t care. I wanted them gone. I couldn’t rip my gaze away from what was mine. She let her leg loll a little farther to the side, giving me an even better view of her pussy. I licked my lips.

  “Out! All of you!”

  The students packed up, stowing their books and laptops before grumbling their way out of the room. She stood, as if leaving right along with them. I cursed her for taking away such a captivating sight. But I would get a better view. One that was much, much closer. She’d finally driven me over the edge. Today was the day she would find out just how far I would go to give her the discipline she so sorely needed.

  Chapter Two

  Zoey Finnegan

  “Not you, Ms. Finnegan,” Professor Stevens called. His voice was thick with tension. He was focused on me, his blue eyes forcing me back down into my seat.

  I’d really pissed him off this time. He ran a hand through his dark hair. He needed a cut. He usually kept it just long enough to tickle the sides of his ears. Now it had gotten a bit shaggier. The locks curled around his shirt collar and fell into his face. It made him look younger, though he was only thirty-five, according to his faculty profile.

  He was classically handsome. All the girls in the law school drooled over Professor Stevens, masturbating to him every night and making googoo eyes at him in class. His façade of cool impenetrability never faltered. He treated all students equally. Equally badly, anyway.

  But the girls still talked and dreamed, even though Professor Stevens was married. Even though he was cold, untouchable. He followed every rule to the letter and dominated his classrooms with an iron fist. That’s what made my tardiness so much worse.

  I looked at my watch. My next class started in fifteen minutes. I hoped he wouldn’t lecture me for too long. But gauging by the fire in his eyes, I assumed it was going to be quite a tongue-lashing.

  When the final student cleared out, Professor Stevens bade me come closer and speak with him. I rose and made my way down the risers before walking to him and perching against the desk near the podium.

  “I’m really sorry, professor. I just had a lot of other things to do so I—”

  “You said it was car trouble, Ms. Finnegan.” His back was still to me.

  Busted. “I, it was, I just um …”

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway. Lock the door.” His voice was a low growl.

  “What?” A shiver went down my spine.

  “Lock—the—door.” He turned to look at me and his eyes bored into mine.

  I followed his command, not wanting to get into any more trouble. I clicked the deadbolt over.

  “Come here.” His voice was a stark command.

  Shit. I was in big trouble. I returned to him. I glanced back over my shoulder at the locked door before looking at him. He hadn’t moved from the podium, his posture rigid. His broad back strained against the fabric of his dress shirt, all the muscles drawn tight.

  I twiddled my long hair. “Professor, the next class starts in here in ten minutes, you know. Students will be trying to get in. Maybe we should walk over to your office or something?”

  “No.” He took off his clark kent glasses and carefully set them on the podium.

  He reached up and loosened his tie before unknotting it entirely. He opened his top two buttons so I could see the dark hair along his upper chest. “Professor Rains is sick. Her class is canceled. No one will be in here again until tomorrow.”

  He whipped his tie from around his neck and wrapped it around one of his hands.

  Fear rushed through me. “I-I- should go.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Ms. Finnegan. Put your palms on the desk.”

  “What?”

  He looked up, irritation and some other emotion rolling off him in waves, his Adam’s apple protruding as he did so. I realized how large he was, maybe six foot five and fit, strong. He turned toward me. I let out a choked gasp when I saw his rigid length outlined against the front of his pants.

  He sighed. “I’m not going to ask nicely again, Ms. Finnegan.”

  I darted a glance to the door and took a step. That was as far as I got. His hands, large and hot, gripped my arms and wrenched them behind me. I cried out but he slapped a hand over my mouth. “If you scream, I’ll gag you. And then I’ll make this hurt. Understand?”

  His grip on my arm and mouth tightened until I nodded.

  He released my mouth and began working on my hands. I felt the smooth fabric of the tie against my wrists. I tried to yank my hands away and go for the door, but he was too strong. I had no chance.

  He growled and slammed me chest-down onto the desk, sending a whoosh of air from my lungs. He snugged his hips up against my ass. His hard cock pressed into me. Only the fabric between us kept him from my pussy. His thick, stiff length made me shiver. He continued tying my hands.

  “You can struggle if you want. It doesn’t matter. You aren’t going anywhere, not until you’ve been disciplined, Ms. Finnegan.” He bent over me, pressing me down into the unforgiving desk until his mouth was next to my ear. “Besides, I like it even more when you fight.”

  I tried to buck my shoulder up to push him back, but it didn’t work. He laughed, a low, deep rumble that I felt against my back. I trembled at what that laugh meant. He leaned away from me again and finished his work at my wrists. When he was done, they were held fast. I wriggled them, but got nowhere. I was trussed up and bent over the desk, completely exposed and at his mercy.

  His pressure was gone. He’d backed away from me. I turned my head to the side so I could see him, see how far away he was and if I could make it to the door.

  He was only a few steps back, staring at me, a smirk on his face. Then he reached down and unbuckled his belt. The jangling sound spurred me into action. I tried to rise up and run, but with my hands tied behind my back, I was far too slow. Before I’d even begun, he had me slammed back down onto the desk.

  “Try that again and I’ll fuck you in the ass right now. Is that what you want, Ms. Finnegan? It’s certainly what I want.”

  I caught my breath and ignored the slight sting from my hard nipples being forced into the hard surface. I shook my head. “No.”

  “No what?”

  What did he want? “Um, no, professor?”

  “Much better.”

  Chapter Three

  Professor Stevens

  I eased off her and finished removing my belt. I drew the smooth leather against my hands. This belt was brand new for the semester. It had Ms. Finnegan’s name branded into it along the inside by my leather guy. I had him make it once I’d realized Ms. Finnegan was in desperate need of correction from me.

  The fresh leather would have quite a bite to it. Ms. Finnegan would take every single lash I gave her. I may even make her thank me. After all, she needed discipline. She was practically begging for it.

  She looked back at me. I raised the belt so she could see it over her shoulder. A shiver ran through her body and her eyes opened wide. My cock jumped against my pants at her fear.

  “That’s right, Ms. Finnegan. I’m going to discipline you. You’ve been late to my class how many times?”

  She was breathing hard, already panting. She tried to answer but her words seemed to stick in her throat.

  “How many times,
Ms. Finnegan?”

  “I don’t know, maybe three times?” Her voice shook.

  I tsked at her. “Ten, Ms. Finnegan, including today. How many times would you say that you’ve been prepared for class?”

  Her fingers clenched and her eyes roamed the room, no doubt looking for help that was nowhere to be found. When she discovered no reprieve lurking in the rows, her gaze returned to me. “Every time, professor.”

  I reached down and pulled her skirt up, laying it against her back. Her ass was entirely fuckable. Round, full cheeks, a tight little flower of an asshole, and that sweet pink beneath. I forced myself to slow my pace. Discipline first. Always.

  I put my hand on her lower back and pressed down. She needed to feel me over her, to know I was going to give her what she deserved. She would submit.

  “Ms. Finnegan, out of sixteen classes, you’ve been prepared zero times. That’s ten tardies plus sixteen unprepared, equals twenty-six strokes with my belt.” I pressed down harder, enjoying the feel of her trembling beneath me.

  She let out a small, strangled sound. I intended to lock that euphoria-inducing sound deep in my memory.

  “How many times have you failed to turn in homework? Any idea?”

  “I-I- don’t know.”

  “I do. I’ve given only five homework assignments this semester. You’ve seen fit to do none of them. So now we’re up to thirty-one lashes. Plus another for lying to me about your car breaking down. But.” I moved my hand down and gripped her luscious ass. “I’ll make you a deal. Would you like to hear my terms?”