Dear Professor,
Does it bother you that you’re ten years older than me?
Have you ever thought it’s wrong that you watched me fuck
another guy on camera for months?
What do you want from me, really? All I wanted was my letter
of recommendation, but now I’m stuck, aren’t I? Stuck under your thumb… And
your body.
From cam girl to personal whore, and all by the age of
twenty-one. You’ve got me good, haven’t you?
But guess what? I can play too. Grab the polish, because
I’ve found your skeleton, and it's time to dust.
I’ll see you in class.
Oh and, Sir? I’m not wearing any panties.
Love, Darcy
P.s. you’re an asshole.
Blaire Drake is a pseudonym
for a New York Times bestselling author who wanted to think outside her box and
write the kind of things that would shock even them. She loves taboo romance
and pushing boundaries in her work. She also enjoys long walks on the beach at
sunset, as long as it’ll be followed by a good,
old-fashioned spanking right after.
DEAR PROFESSOR
is her debut standalone novel, and her next book, PRETTY PORNSTAR, is also a
standalone novel that promises to be equally as taboo and sexy.
You can connect
with Blaire online at:
Books make me happy.
Books that are taboo make me happier.
Books that have a hot Professor make me happiest.
When this book came into my sight I knew I needed to read it.
There are times when a book comes along and is different than those that are currently out, this is one of those books. With a hot Professor who begins a relationship with his
student, to t girl who knows what she wants and will fight tooth and nail to achieve her dreams.
Yes, Darcy is unconventional, she does things that would disgust most people but she knows who she is and doesn't let that get in her way. When she is put in a position that threatens her future she does what she needs to even if that means doing the unthinkable and sleeping with her asshole Professor.
Jordan Keaton is a man with many skeletons, he is known by his students as the hard ass Professor because he takes nobody's shit. When an opportunity presents itself, he could walk away but instead he has Darcy right where he wants her. Underneath him.
When the game begins two players lives will change forever, they both know they could lose everything they have worked so hard for but the temptation is too much.
Darcy and Professor Keaton have a fucked up arrangement. I couldn't believe the audacity of this teacher and his proposal to his student. What I loved was that even though this book is about sex the pages are not filled with sex and no plot. The story is like chess, both players make moves thinking they will be the winner. I enjoyed the writing and flow of the story. Watching how Jordan and Darcy transformed before my eyes was invigorating.
Dear Professor had me up late reading, I just had to know what would happen next in this fucked up tale. Blaire Drake did an amazing job of weaving Jordan and Darcy's two worlds together. There are ups and downs, heartbreak and electricity so palpable I could feel it. If you like taboo reads then this is the story for you.
His electric blue eyes focused on me, and in the bright hue of his gaze, the
rest of his office seemed to melt away. I had no idea how he kept doing that to
me—it was almost as if he were casting a spell over me, hypnotizing me with
nothing more than a glance.
My heart thumped loudly in my chest at the lust I saw burning
back at me. That hard-edged, animalistic lust that secretly drove me wild. I’d
never tell him that. I was certain of it. I’d never give him that much power
over me.
He already had enough.
“What’s wrong, sir?” I asked as I coyly twirled a piece of my
hair around my finger.
“You’re starting to piss me off, Darcy,” he shot at me. The
rough edge to his voice rumbled through the air between us until it hit me
full-force. His words crawled over my skin, and each one carried the whispered
promise. Or maybe it was a threat; I couldn’t tell.
“How can I piss you off? I haven’t done anything.” It was a
petulant response, I knew that, but I didn’t care.
He pushed up out of his chair and stalked around his desk. I
inhaled sharply, but he swept right past me and toward his door. Just when I
thought he might pull it open and send me on my way, he turned the lock.
The click echoed through the air, and it did nothing for the
butterflies that were rapidly fluttering in my stomach.
I hated him. It was getting clearer and clearer to me every day.
I despised Professor Jordan Keaton, but I also craved him as badly as I needed
my next breath.
He didn’t look at me as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it
up on the hook on the door. He still didn’t look at me as he unbuttoned the
sleeves of his crisp, white shirt and rolled them up to above his elbows. His
upper arms seemed to strain against the fabric, his toned biceps becoming
delightfully visible.
“Now, let’s try this again,” he said, his voice deathly low. It
scared me and thrilled me all at the same time. “Have a little think, Darcy.
Imagine why I might possibly be pissed off with you.”
I dropped the lock of hair I was twirling and looked at his
pants. The bulge gave his attraction to me away. “I’m standing in front of you
as opposed to being on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”
He jerked his head around, piercing me with those eyes. “Keep
running your mouth, sweet thing. I dare you.”
“Or what? Really, what are you going to do to me in your office, Professor? Give me
lines? Make me write an essay on why young ladies should be seen and not
heard?”
His jaw ticked, his lips tightening, and he moved toward me so
quickly I took a step backward. It was useless, though, like I knew it would
be. The grip he had on my wrist was so certain, the tug toward him so strong,
that I couldn’t fight him.
My body slammed into his, and no sooner had the air rushed from
my body than he pulled the skirt of my dress up. Cold air flitted across my
bare backside, but it was replaced almost instantly with one sharp smack.
My pussy clenched, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop
myself whimpering. In pain or pleasure—I had no clue.
“That,” he growled into my ear. “That is what I’ll do if you
keep sassing me, Miss Hamilton.”
I wondered if he knew how strongly I was considering continuing
to sass him just for that purpose. I would do that later—I needed to know what
had got him so riled. “Understood,” I said in a softer tone. “What did I do?”
He let go of my dress and slid his hand up my back. His breath
was hot against my skin as he sunk his fingers into my hair and turned me
around so my back was to him. “Last night,” he replied, his lips close to my
ear. “Your little show.”
“That’s my job.”
He tugged on my hair. “Did you ask me?”
“You’re not my boss, Jordan. Neither are you my fucking keeper.”
His grip grew tighter, so much so that my head tilted back.
“Darcy. Did. You. Fucking. Ask. Me?”
“No,” I ground out, my jaw clamped tightly.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you really fucking think
I wouldn’t know that you were spending your night in front of your camera, with
your finger rubbing that little clit of yours?” Roughly, he pushed his hand
beneath my dress and teased his fingertips along the line of my panties. “Did
you think you’d be able to walk into my classroom today and I wouldn’t know
that at least one or two of those students hadn’t watched you as you fucked
your own fingers?”
“No,” I breathed out, my lips parting as his hand dipped beneath
my panties. The tip of one of his fingers ghosted across my clit, and it sent a
bolt of pleasure through me.
“I didn’t hear you,” he rasped in my ear, flicking his finger
across my clit.
“No,” I repeat, this time more forcefully. “I knew you would.
And I didn’t give a shit.” I gasped as he pushed down hard on the sensitive
spot.
“We made a deal,” he reminded me, his tone tight with anger… And
thick with desire.
“And you won’t let me forget it.”
“Damn straight I won’t.” He pulled his hand from between my legs
but kept me in place with his grip on my hair. “Now are you going to renege on
it again or are you going to behave yourself?”
“From the man who just had his fingers on a student’s clit?”
“You’re pushing me, Darcy.”
I reached behind me, between us, and cupped his long, hard cock
with my hand. The zipper of his pants pushed into my palm, and I traced my
thumb down the side of his erection. “I’m not the only thing pushing, am I?”
“Fuck.” He hissed the word out, and the next thing I knew, my
dress was being lifted up, and he let go of my hair.
My hands slammed against his desk as he bent me forward and
moved my panties to the side. He’d barely touched me, but I could feel my pussy
throbbing in anticipation of what was to come.
I knew this would be a cold, hard fuck, designed to remind me
who I belonged to. Who, for all intents and purposes, owned my body.
It would be a reminder and a punishment, all because I dared to
take control of myself for one night and defy him.
Jordan’s movements were as smooth as always, and he spread one
of my ass cheeks with a strong hand. His fingertips dug in almost painfully,
but I didn’t care, because I sighed in relief as he pushed his hard, thick cock
inside me.
“Now, this is how this is gonna work,” he rasped into my ear as
he grasped my hair and tugged. “Since you’ve forgotten, Darcy, you need a
reminder, don’t you?”
I didn’t dare answer. The question was rhetorical. Besides, I
was already practically panting from his swift invasion of my body.
“Now, I’m gonna fuck you.”
I swallowed and glanced at the shadows of people walking past
his office door, a tiny lock and frosted glass providing us limited privacy.
I’d known it was coming, sure, but now we were here, silent, and I could hear
the people outside…
I couldn’t deny the excitement that swept through my body at the
thought we could be interrupted any second. That someone could walk right up to
this door and probably see the vague silhouette of him fucking me from behind.
I felt dirty, but I liked it.
“And you got it, Darcy.” He pulled out and slammed right back
into me, making me bite down on my lower lip. “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re
not gonna make a sound. Understand?”
I didn’t answer for fear that I’d whimper instead of respond
yes. I just nodded and sucked my lower lip into my mouth.
“Good girl.” The words were but a whisper, but they were two I
was becoming rapidly acquainted with.
And worse? I liked it when he said it.
He was reminding me of more than he knew… Like what it meant to
fuck because lust was just too strong.
He pulled out of me slowly. With the head of his cock resting at
the opening to my pussy, he gripped my ass tightly. “Who do you belong to,
Darcy?”
I didn’t answer.
The sting didn’t surprise me when it came.
“Answer the question.”
“You,” I whispered.
He gently caressed the spot he just slapped. “And who owns your
body, Darcy?” I arched my back as his cock entered me fully. “Who does this
tight, wet pussy belong to? Who decides who and what gets to be inside it?”
It… Like it’s a tool… Just a toy for his amusement. Just like I
am.
“You.” There was no other option.
“That’s right. You and your wet pussy are mine. I own you, sweet
thing. Every single fucking inch of your gorgeous body is mine.”
His words… The possessiveness sent thrills through me as he
moved inside me. I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t deny how fucking turned on they
made me, and I hated myself for it. I hated how he commanded my body, and I
hated that I let him.
“Now.” He stilled, his hand still resting on my ass, and slowly
let go of my hair. The raven curls tumbled over my shoulder and onto the desk,
and I felt the loss of him before it happened.
He eased out of me, and ever the gentleman, slipped my panties
back over me. Great. Now I’d be walking around all day wanting to screw anyone
reasonably good looking.
I pushed myself to standing as soon as I heard him take a step
to the side. I looked at him just in time to see him zipping his pants back up
and tucking his shirt in. His tie hung a little lopsided, and I raised my eyes
from his neck.
Our gazes collided with heart-thumping ferocity. The slow, sexy
curve of his lips to one side did nothing to calm the quick two-step beat my
heart had just taken up, but I didn’t dare to look away. Even if I did, I don’t
think I could have. His eyes were the net, and I was nothing but a tiny fish,
tangled up in him.
“Seven o’clock tonight. I’ll be waiting.”
“What for?” I questioned as he walked toward the door without
moving his eyes from mine.
He unlocked the door, and the smirk he shot me was dirty. I
sighed and grabbed my purse from the chair, then walked toward him. I reached
for the handle at the same time he grabbed my chin.
His mouth touched mine, searing onto my lips with its
fierceness.
Another reminder.
He pulled away as briskly as he kissed me, but that still didn’t
stop me from touching my thumb to my lower lip.
“Remember,” he murmured, opening the door. “Seven. Don’t be
late.”
