She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

“Mph—!” Heena whimpered into his mouth, her eyes blowing wide at the sudden, brazen claim he’d made on her.

Instinctively her hand flew to his chest… to push, to resist, to be the woman she was supposed to be.

But her hand didn’t follow her instructions. Instead, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and held on, anchoring her to the very thing she was supposed to be pushing away.

She was lost in seconds.

Alex kissed her slowly, sucking on her lower lip with a patient, savouring intensity that made her toes curl inside her shoes.

He wasn’t rushing. He was giving her time… time to adjust, time to surrender, time to feel every second of her own dismantling.

Heena was stunned by how easily her body had given up. Worse, how readily it was responding to him.

Or maybe, a quiet voice inside her whispered, she had been wanting this all along. Wanting a man to grab her like this. To stop asking and take what he wanted because he was certain she would let him.

’So this is how it happens,’ she thought, dizzy. ’This is how even Tisha Wells, the cold, untouchable woman who could freeze a room with a single look, ends up curled in this devil’s lap.’

She suddenly felt his tongue at the seam of her lips, and reality came crashing back.

’No. You can’t do this, Heena. Stop him. Stop right now.’

The protest screamed through her skull, sharp and frantic… but her mouth wasn’t listening.

Her lips parted for him with an obedience she couldn’t override, opening like a door that had been waiting all night for someone to push.

She cursed herself. ’You can’t even control yourself for ten seconds. You’ll be nothing in his eyes. Just another easy woman. Just another wife who couldn’t hold out… ’

But her body didn’t care.

The last half hour had been too much for it to bear… the watching, the wanting, the unbearable pressure of being so close to something she’d been starved of for years.

And now that it had finally been given a fraction of what it wanted, it had stopped listening to her mind entirely.

It was lost. Drowning. Completely indifferent to the war her conscience was still trying to fight on its behalf.

Her tongue met his, tentative at first, clumsy, the response of a woman who had forgotten what this felt like.

And then something inside her broke loose. Her fingers tightened in his shirt. Her head tilted. A small, helpless sound climbed out of her throat that no amount of mental scolding could have prevented.

She had just resigned herself. Had just stopped fighting. Had just decided to fall all the way, no matter what waited at the bottom…

And he pulled away.

“Hah… hah…” Heena gasped, her chest heaving, her swollen lips parted around breaths that came too fast and too shallow.

The sudden absence of his mouth was a shock so sharp it almost hurt. She blinked at him, dazed and unmoored, her eyes searching his face with a confusion that bordered on injury.

’Why did you stop? I had just… ’

“Hehehe…” Alex chuckled… low, amused, the laugh of a man who had just won something precious and wanted her to feel exactly how thoroughly she’d lost.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her swollen lower lip. “Not acting anymore, are we?”

Heena’s face flooded with heat. Shame, arousal, and the dizzy aftermath of his mouth all collided in her chest at once… and underneath all of it, the hollow, devastating realisation that she had been the one chasing him at the end.

Heena’s eyes stayed locked on his, her breath hitching at the dark, effortless smirk he wore.

She could see it… the raw, vibrating satisfaction he took in her undoing. He wasn’t just winning; he was enjoying the view of her ruins.

A spark of the old Heena flared up.

’Tough,’ she commanded herself, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. ’Be tough. Stop acting like the easy woman he thinks you are. You are a Sterling. You are a Professor.’

But the thought hadn’t even finished forming when the world suddenly inverted.

​In one fluid, powerful motion, Alex’s hands hooked under her thighs.

He didn’t ask, and he didn’t even seem to strain; he simply hoisted her upward like a porcelain doll, dragging her toward him over the center console.

In the cramped, humid confines of the car, Heena found herself lifted out of her world of professional boundaries and deposited directly onto his lap.

“Ahhh—!”

The cry was half-shock, half-gasp. Before she could register the change in altitude, she was straddling him, her knees pressed against the leather and her skirt pushed dangerously high.

The realization hit her like a physical blow… she was sitting directly on him.

He had to feel it. The dampness of her silk, the heat, the sheer evidence of her arousal was now smeared against his trousers.

But then, she felt it.

Something hard. Something thick and unyielding was pressed directly against her core, separated only by thin layers of fabric. It felt like a brand, a solid anchor of heat that made her brain short-circuit.

Unconsciously, her hand dropped. Her fingers moved before her mind could veto the action, her palm closing around the length of him to identify the intrusion.

Her eyes blew wide, her heart stopping for a full beat as her thoughts finally caught up to her hand.

She looked at him, her face a mask of pure, startled realization.

Alex was looking back, his smirk widening into something hungrier, something more predatory.

His hands didn’t stay still; they dropped to her rear, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, anchoring her onto him with a possessive, heavy grip.

“You… you can’t do this to me,” she whispered, the words trembling and hollow. “I’m… I’m your teacher, Alex. This is…”

“Hahaha!”

His laughter was a rich, dark vibration she felt through her own bones. He didn’t care about the title. If anything, the title was fuel.

“That makes it even more fun, doesn’t it, Professor?” he murmured, his voice dropping into a gravelly register. “The fact that you’re supposed to be in charge… and yet, here you are.”

He didn’t wait for her to process the insult. He slid one hand upward, the palm hot against her ribs as he ducked under the hem of her blouse. Heena flinched, a low whimper escaping her as his fingers reached her breasts.

Her peaks were aching, harder than she had ever felt them, straining against the lace of her bra.

With a practiced, effortless flick, he slid the lacy cup aside. His fingers closed around the tip of her breast, rolling the sensitive peak between his thumb and forefinger with a sudden, sharp pressure.

“Anh…!”

Heena’s head fell back, her eyes snapping shut as a bolt of pure electricity shot straight from her chest to the damp space between her legs.

“Look at this,” Alex whispered, leaning in until his lips brushed her jaw. “My dear, dignified Professor… so horny for her own student. So desperate for the boy she’s supposed to be grading.”

He squeezed again, his other hand kneading her hip.

“You’re very naughty, aren’t you Mrs. Sterling,” he breathed, his voice a dark promise against her skin. “Exactly like those books of yours.”