Illicit Affairs
skylarmrose2020 · Ongoing · 103.2k Words
Introduction
It starts with a heated argument. A slap. A look that lingers too long.
Michael should be nothing more than a temptation she resists, yet his relentless pursuit ignites something dark and unspoken within her. Their secret encounters burn with a hunger neither can control, but desire comes at a cost.
As whispers turn to threats and betrayal looms, Betty must decide, protect the life she’s built or surrender to the one man she can’t have.
Chapter 1
BETTY
Her legs are suspended in the air by his firm hands while his dick goes deeper into her. He's going at a ruthless pace, and she's meeting each thrust with deep moans. He's marking her. Crushing her pride. Breaking every bit of restraint she has. Until she's muttering his name, like a damn mantra. Clinging to him like an elixir to the spell she's being fucked through. Until she admits to herself that it's everything she wants. It's everything she ever imagined it to be. She hates to admit it but he's great…fucking amazing, and she loves this…she loves him…she wishes he doesn't stop…
I suck in a harsh gulp, shutting the little journal. There's anger, disgust, and a little spicy feeling making my inner thighs twitch as I search the little crowd for him.
Finally, I find his green eyes. Except, they are already staring at me. Those lazy, intense gaze…daring to look at me most inappropriately. Like he's undressing me.
“What is the meaning of this madness, Michael?” I ask, lifting the little journal for the whole class to see. Everyone darts their attention to him.
He shrugs, nonchalantly, with a smirk showing how much he loves the attention.
His golden-blond hair has a strand to his face, accentuating his smug, but great looks.
He's an arrogant ass. A rich imbecile. The school's basketball captain. The leader of the skankiest group of jocks. The dream of every young, immature girl and the damn pain in my ass. He makes my days here in Crestwood College a living hell. I've never had anyone his age rattle me as easily as he does. Easily and damn effortlessly.
“You asked for a literary piece and I submitted one.”
“You call this garbage porn a literary piece?” My anger skyrockets. “Is literature a joke to you?!”
“No, Ma'am.” He says, drawling the words so painfully well that it sends another unsolicited tingle between my legs.
“Then again, porn can be a literary piece, especially if it's written from the heart.”
“This…” I hold the journal with a tighter grip. “...was written from the heart?”
“From the deepest part, Ma'am.” His voice gets deeper, almost husky. “And it syncs with the project you gave.”
I brace my hands on the table, trying to calm my anger and that mad tinge between my legs.
“I don't see how it does.”
“Then allow me to explain,” he leans forward, intertwining his hands on his desk. “You asked us to write about the moment a soul recognizes another. The moment you realize this is the one for you, right?”
I didn't bother answering that, but his minions gave him a loud “sure”, while grinning like brainless buffoons.
“Well, there it is. But from the female perspective. It's about a girl who didn't know she liked the guy at first. Not until he finally pins her to the bed and gives her a taste of his dick. And the mind-blowing moment finally strings up those feelings she fought so hard to bury. At the moment, she realizes she's always loved him. She just…needed a little erotic awakening.” he ends with a smirk.
Everyone laughed at that. His minions whistle and shake hands with him. Once again, Michael Bolton is being worshipped like a damn king. And once again, it's at my detriment.
As a teacher, I know it goes against the teaching ethics to say this, but I hate this kid. With every nerve in me.
“You're getting an F, but I'm sure that doesn't faze you either, Mr. Bolton?” I roll my eyes, tossing his journal to the ground.
His smile vanishes and the stupid cheering dies down. Getting an F on a Major course in his final year definitely isn't hilarious.
I avoided his piercing gaze throughout the class. It lasts an hour plus, and then we are finally done.
Everyone stands and leaves. I'm arranging my stuff and fixing my handbag when I inhale the sharp scent of his cologne.
I hate to admit that I can recognize his cologne anywhere. Maybe because it's just as audacious as he is.
I slowly look up and he has the journal in his hands. The class is empty, so it's just the two of us. I try to never be in this situation. Something about being alone with him never sat right with me.
“You see, Ma'am, maybe you'd reconsider your decision? I can't afford an F right now.” He says with a tight chuckle.
“Well, tough luck, Mr. Bolton. I can't help you there.” I tell him, resuming with packing these things. This time, I'm doing it faster and a little more unorganized. It's just the effect of having his arrogant ass close to me.
Finally, I'm done and ready to leave. He steps in front of me quickly, making me halt.
Looking at his face strains my neck a bit. He's tall, a damn 6’7. And I'm 5 '6. Another thing that pisses me off. Standing this close to him, I feel so damn small and he's big, buff…dominating. He doesn't look anything like a 23-year-old. Not with such a firm physique.
“I'm serious,” he says, there's panic in his voice. That's a first. “I can accept anything else from you. Just not an F.”
“Again, I can't help you. I gave you what you deserved. Maybe next time, you'll take your class projects a little more seriously and cease with your shenanigans.”
“You’re being unfair, Ma'am,” he scoffs, licking up his lips. I hate that I saw that. “What did I write that's so wrong? Sex is just as common as breathing. And we're adults for fuck’s sake.”
Michael Bolton, the only guy who effortlessly makes my blood boil. At this point, he should get an Oscar. He's the only one who alters my calm, composed demeanor. He makes me consider murder sometimes.
“Get out of my way, Mr. Bolton. I have somewhere else to be.” I try walking past him but he steps in front of me again.
“Fine. Do you wanna hear the guy's point of view? Maybe you'll find it less.. vulgar.”
I don't wanna hear anything from him. But it seems he's not gonna let me go if I don't listen.
“Go ahead,” I say through clenched teeth, stomping my foot impatiently.
He steps closer, making my heart do a silly flip. I hate the proximity. But I'm not about to show him that I'm affected by it.
“It's…It's a professor and student trope, Ma'am.” He begins, tilting his head. “From the first day she came into his class, he was enchanted by her…” He says in a husky, breathy tone. “A very cold, stuck-up professor who won't let her guard down for a bit. And a student who'd do anything to get her to notice him. A student who'd do anything to get into her heart, and if he's lucky, into her bed.” He ends with a grin and a fixed look at me.
Something goes off in my head, like an explosion. In the next second, my bag drops on the ground with a thud. I lift my free hand, landing a resounding slap to his face.
“How dare you?!” I curse, hitting him again.
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