Crave Me Not! Lustful Erotic Shorts

Crave Me Not! Lustful Erotic Shorts

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Introduction

They said control keeps us safe.
They lied.
Control is an illusion — and the moment it slips, desire takes over. In this collection, innocence is devoured, vows are broken, and boundaries are nothing but invitations. These are the obsessions that leave you trembling, awaken cravings you dare not confess, and drive you wild under touches that both destroy and reclaim you.
Every story is hotter, riskier, more forbidden than the last, and once you open the book, you’re already inside their world.

Chapter 1

Book 1: Owned By Professor Blackwell

It was supposed to be fun. A little dare. Make the coldest, most brilliant man on campus notice her.

But the second Professor Adrian Blackwell’s eyes lock on hers, Aria knows she’s in trouble. Because he doesn’t just notice, he consumes. He strips her bare with a single glance, and suddenly the game isn’t hers anymore.

He sets the rules and decides how far she’ll fall. And if she dares to play, she’ll learn exactly what happens when you tempt a man who swore he’d never touch a student.

ARIA

“I dare you to… drumroll please—” Jess, my best friend, banged her hand on my desk like a bad drummer, grinning like she was about to ruin my life.

“Hook up with… THE Professor Blackwell.” She let out a mocking scoff. “Boom. The hottest, meanest man on campus. You’reee welcome.”

I froze mid-eye-roll. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jess snorted, collapsing back onto my dorm bed, her curls spilling over my pillow.

“Of course I’m kidding! Aria, please. The man walks around like he’s allergic to joy. He’d eat you alive before you even got a ‘hi’ out.”

I grinned slowly, tilting my head. “Mmh… but you said it.”

“Oh, no.” Jess sat up, pointing a popcorn kernel at me like it was a threat. “No, no, no. Don’t even think about it.”

Oh, I’m already thinking about it.” I slid onto the edge of the mattress beside her, kicking her leg playfully. “Every single step. The dare stands, right?”

Jess groaned, burying her face in my blanket. “Girl, you are absolutely fucking insane! Tell me you’re not actually going through with this. It was clearly a joke!”

I laughed, flipping my hair back. “Nope. I accept and I’m going through with it. The dare’s the dare.”

“Aria, what the hell are you doing? You’re about to walk into Blackwell’s class like some bold little firecracker? The man has power, and probably a secret dungeon. He doesn’t notice students, he freaking terrifies them!”

“Exactly,” I said, leaning back on my hands. “That’s the fun part. I want him to notice me. Maybe corner him one day, make him lose it completely.”

I smirked, voice dropping. “Just fuck my eyes out like he’s been thinking about it every second he looks at me.”

Jess choked on her popcorn, coughing out a laugh. “Oh my god, you actually said that out loud.”

“Yes, I did. And yes, that’s exactly what I’m thinking. I’m done playing small. Tiny, boring, invisible me is over. It’s time for Aria to be unforgettable.

I grabbed a handful of her popcorn and popped one in my mouth before continuing. “Besides, everyone’s been whispering about him since last semester. The mysterious, broody professor with the big dick energy— literally.”

She groaned and threw a pillow at me. “Girl, stop talking like that! You sound like a headline: Student seduces professor, ruins her GPA and her life.”

I caught the pillow easily. “A viral headline,” I corrected, smiling slowly. “And imagine the story I’ll tell my grandkids.”

Jess laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And unforgettable,” I said, pushing off the bed and grabbing my jacket.”

Let’s be honest. If I’m not risking a little, what’s the fucking point?”


The next morning, I strutted through campus like I owned every step. My bag swung casually at my side, my eyes scanning the crowd, but every nerve in my body was zeroed in on one target.

Blackwell. Professor Adrian Blackwell.

I spotted him before he spotted me, naturally. He was leaning against the edge of his office desk, tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the definition in his forearms. Sharp black suit, hair slicked back with perfect silver streaks. Stormy eyes behind glasses, and that jawline… holy hell, that jawline.

I swallowed, trying not to stare too obviously. I tugged lightly at the hem of my blouse, just a subtle shift, nothing blatant, but enough to make my chest feel alive. My mind told me to calm down. My body… ignored it.

Jess’s voice echoed in my head like a warning. ‘Girl, this is insane’. But I didn’t care, she dared me anyway.

This was my moment. My dare. My fire.

I slipped into his lecture hall early, claiming a seat right at the front — dead center, where he couldn’t miss me even if he tried.

My heart was a mess, but my face? Calm. Confident. I had no idea how the hell I was going to pull this off, but one thing was certain—Aria Monroe will not back down. Especially not when there was even the slightest chance things might work out my way — the kind of way that could end with me on my knees for the professor everyone gossiped about. The one rumored to be walking around with a cock big enough to make the gods jealous.

When class started, I played it cool for the first few minutes, pretending to take notes while watching him move, that slow, deliberate walk, that voice that rolled through the room.

Then I started my little act: harmless questions, borderline stupid ones, the perfect starter pack for attention. I raised my hand, sweet smile locked in place.

“Professor, could you go over that last point again?”

His eyes narrowed. “Which point?” His voice was sharp, but quiet.

“The… application part in modern theory?” I tried not to stammer.

He walked over, deliberate, each step like a countdown to disaster. “This isn’t a debate, Miss Aria. You know that,” he said, eyes boring into mine.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, holding his gaze, daring him to look away. He didn’t.

Class ended, and the room emptied fast. I stayed seated for a while, pretending to gather my notes, my eyes never leaving him. Every twitch of his lips, every glance at a student, it all felt like a test I was determined to pass.

Jess cornered me outside immediately I stepped out, arms folded, mock horror written all over her face.

“Girl, you’ve completely lost it. You’re standing there like it’s a joke and he’s— him.”

“I know, I know.” I grinned, brushing past her. “Relax, it’s nothing serious. For the plot, remember?” I added, pouting dramatically.

Jess sighed, zipping up her already zipped tote bag. “Fine. For the plot,” she muttered. “But it’s not too late to back off, you know. It was just a stupid dare.”

“Relax,” I said, waving her off. “We’re graduating soon — let a girl have her fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Jess raised a brow. “You want a list? Humiliation, expulsion, arrest—hell, maybe you could even get pregnant—”

“JESS! R-E-L-A-X!” I cut in, laughing. “No one’s getting pregnant. Please. Hopefully. Hopefully.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “It’s your funeral, Mrs. Plot Twist. See you later.”

“Bye,” I called over my shoulder, heading down the campus veranda, my grin refusing to fade.

Across campus, I slowed my steps just enough to look casual. The sun was hot, the air filled with end-of-semester noise. A few more weeks and we’d be gone. Diplomas, jobs, whatever came next.

But I wasn’t thinking about graduation. I was thinking about him.

His office sat halfway down the main hall, blinds always half open. I told myself I wasn’t looking for him, but I always timed my walk so that I’d pass just as he looked up. That glinter of eye contact — barely a second, left my stomach wrecked for hours.

“God, you’re terrible at being subtle,” someone said from behind me.

Maya. Of course.

My unofficial rival since freshman year. Same major, same classes, same everything. If I aced a paper, she’d score higher. If I got attention, she’d find a way to take it back. She didn’t hate me outright — that would’ve taken too much effort, but she loved reminding me I wasn’t untouchable.

She fell into step beside me, her tone all bite and amusement. “Subtlety’s overrated,” I said before she could even start.

She smirked. “Says the girl stalking her professor in broad daylight.”

I smiled back, unwilling to flinch. “You say ‘stalking.’ I say ‘strategic timing.’”

Her laugh was low, skeptical. “You do realize he could end your academic life with one phone call, right?”

“Relax. It’s not that serious.”

“That’s what they all say.” She stopped walking, blocking my path. Her hair caught the light, red and wild. “You think you’re playing him, but you’re not. You’re getting pulled in.”

I started to laugh — but then his door opened.

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