Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” I lie. I’m not sorry. It was exactly what I intended on doing.
He tips his head to the side. His deep voice makes my skin prickle. “Yes. We covered that. I explained that you will be sorry before long. Now my question to you is, do you have anything to say?”
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
“Why were you late?” he asks, his voice like the crack of a whip.
I jump, startled, but don’t respond.
“Careless in your preparations?” he asks. “Traffic? Didn’t leave enough time to get here?” He leans forward a bit, and his voice drops. “Or is there another reason, Ms. Romano?” He pierces me in place with his eyes.
“Call me Giada,” I say stupidly. “My mother’s Ms. Romano.”
He nods, but then his voice slaps over me like a wave crashing on the shore. “Answer the question, Giada.”
I jump. “Yes, sir,” I whisper.
He frowns. “Yes, what? What are you agreeing to?”
“The… the latter part of what you said.”
He looks at me sternly for a full minute before nodding once more. Then he unfolds his hands and crooks a finger at me. “As I suspected. Come here.”
My heart rate spikes. God, his authoritative voice undoes me. On autopilot, I unfold myself from my desk and approach him on trembling legs. What will he do? I swallow, hard. Why did I just admit that I’m playing into a fantasy? Will he understand why I did this? Can he throw me out of school for flirting with him?
Have I flirted?
When I reach him, I stand about three feet in front of him and stare up, my nerves completely shot. I’ve only ever fantasized about being with a dom. Hell, I don’t even know if he is one, but the man exudes authority like no one I’ve ever met before and if he doesn’t fulfill my dom fantasies, I’m not sure anyone will.
He crooks a finger at me. “Closer, please.”
Closer?
“Closer would be improper, Professor,” I say, lowering my eyes to show him I have no issue being improper, but I want him to acknowledge this.
He leans toward me. “Now.”
Alright then. Fuck proper.
I take another step closer, so close now I can feel heat curling in my belly. If he reached out he could touch me, we’re that close.
“There are better ways of getting what you need,” he says, his voice softening now, though his eyes are still sharp as flint. “I’m not much of a fan of manipulation.” He uncrosses his legs, pushes off from the edge of his desk, then stands over me.
My mouth is dry, my whole body shaking.
Maybe this was a stupid idea. What am I playing at? What is he playing at?
“It’s unfortunate some school systems no longer favor the application of a paddle for correction,” he says. “I, however, still firmly believe in its merits.”
Oh God oh God oh God.
“Oh?” I squeak, a difficult feat considering the fact my lungs are devoid of air.
I’m somewhere between elation—he is a dom! I knew it! This is it! and utter fear—what the hell is he going to do? Do I need my head examined? Should I scream?
He comes closer to me and takes my chin in his hand. It’s a wholly inappropriate touch, and yet... My skin’s on fire, my heart racing, when he speaks.
“You were ten minutes late, Giada,” he says, with an almost sorrowful tone. I feel suddenly small and chastened, but at the same time inexplicably aroused. His low tone sends a shiver through my body, and I involuntarily clench my thighs together to staunch the waves of arousal that wash over me.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice a low purr. “I know.”
“And I read your essay.”
Oh my God.
What’s he going to do?
He leans in, his mouth to my ear. “It seems a little correction is exactly what you need.” He issues a command. “Bend over my desk.”
A fresh wave of need pulses to my pussy and I stifle a whimper.
This isn’t right. He’s my professor. If we’re caught, he’ll be fired and I’ll be kicked out of school.
“Someone could see us,” I argue, but that was apparently the wrong thing to say because he releases my chin, grabs my arm, and smacks my ass. My mouth drops open in shock, my body heating. My skin tingles from where he spanked me.
“You have two choices, young lady. You bend over the desk yourself and take your punishment like a good little girl, or I bend you over. But if I have to do it, I’ll bare your ass first.”
I actually think about that for a second, and maybe a second too long, since he takes a step toward me. I practically throw myself on his desk, the cool wood pressing up against my belly as I grasp the sides of it. My cheeks flame with embarrassment knowing my ass, clad in the little schoolgirl skirt, is now prominently displayed. The skirt’s so short, bending over like this has it riding high, so I know he’s getting a glimpse of the bare curve of my ass, since I chose a skimpy little thong.