Bad Teacher – Bad Boss – Bad Royal – Unprofessional Bad Boys Read online Clarissa Wild

Categories Genre: BDSM, College, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
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Fuck … this must be the best fuck ever.

However, he wastes no time. Immediately, he pulls out of my ass, and suddenly, it feels so damn empty. He flips me around and swats the clips off my nipples, making me scream. A devious smile spreads across his lips as the sound doesn’t reach farther than the panties in my mouth. Asshole.

“That’s for being in denial,” he says, grinning as he rubs his dick right in front of me. “Now keep those legs spread.” He plants my feet on the desk and jerks himself off between them.

I’m breathing hard and fast, still recovering from that hard fuck as he holds me down and plays with my body until he’s satisfied. “I’m not going to leave an inch of you clean,” he growls, twisting my nipple until I squeal into the fabric.

When he lets go, his head tilts back, and he arches. His cock bounces as he pulls back, and a long-drawn-out moan follows. His cum jets out in spurts, covering my entire body. From top to bottom, nothing’s left unmarked as he comes over my belly, my nipples, my top, and even the panties in my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man squirt this far and this hard. It just keeps coming, covering me in delicious, glistening cum.

When he’s sated, he wipes his cock on my thigh and mutters, “There … I literally marked you as mine.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat as what we just did starts to settle.

His eyes focus on mine, staring for a few seconds as he pants out loud. A smile follows. “No need to be ashamed,” he muses, plucking the panties from my mouth to throw them on the desk. “What else did you expect to happen? A relaxing conversation?”

“Well … whatever … just not … this,” I reply, my eyes widening just from the thought of what just happened.

Like literally … what the fuck just happened?

He grabs my hand and pulls me up into seated position, but he’s still between my legs. “I don’t do relaxed. Or gentle. What you see is what you get.”

“Exactly my problem,” I retort, staring down at my boobs. “Oh god. I’m covered.”

“I don’t see any problem there,” he jests, licking his lips with excitement. “And I’m also a hundred percent sure it’s going to happen again … and again … and again.” He inches closer until his lips touch mine, and he gives me soft pecks on the lips like he’s sealing the deal.

“There’s no way around this, Lesley,” he whispers between kisses.

I sigh, but my eyes close as he tempts me with kisses I didn’t know I needed so damn badly. “Guess I’m really screwed then.”

He grins against my lips and says, “Hard.”

Chapter 18

Lesley

“I’m completely covered in your jizz,” I say, pointing at myself. “I can’t work like this.”

“Yeah … We should get that cleaned up,” TJ concedes.

“Where? This skirt and top won’t do anymore.” I cringe at the thought of having to pull it down and feel it stick.

“Here,” he says, pulling some tissues from a box on his desk. “You can wipe it off.” I gladly take the tissues even though I’m still buzzing from the afterglow. I look around and smile to myself, trying to stay on this high. That’s when I spot my favorite flowers standing on his desk at the very edge.

Tulips. I pick one out of the vase and smell it.

“You like them?”

I open my eyes to find TJ staring at me.

“Uh … yeah …” I stick it back into the vase. “They’re my favorite.”

“Interesting.” He plucks it out again and pushes it into my hand. “Keep it.”

Smiling, I place it beside me while I go to work on this filthiness on my chest. I rub them up and down wherever I feel the wetness, but it’s no use. I can’t get it off my clothes. “This won’t be enough. I really have to change.”

“Okay, let’s go,” he says.

“Where?” I ask as I pull down my top and grab the tulip.

“Home,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him.

“Home?” I repeat as he drags me through the doors and into a hallway without stopping to say hi or bye to anyone. “That’s way too far. I’m still covered, my clothes will be ruined, and everyone will see the stains.”

“I didn’t mean your home,” he adds, opening an escape door and pulling me through.

“What? But this isn’t—”

“I know where I’m going,” he says, dragging me down the stairwell. “This is the quickest route.”

“To where?” I ask, partially out of breath.

“My place.”

Holy shit.

I’ve never been to his place.

Does that mean we’re suddenly more than just … Fuck.

“But what about work?” I ask, hoping this isn’t what I think it is.

Because if a boy brings you to his home … that means serious business.


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