Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“You like when I call you a good boy,” I whispered. “Don’t you, Rookie?”
He wet his lips, refusing to answer. I slid my palm over his hard cock with a firm pressure, enough to make him groan and rock into my touch, his head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.
“Say it.”
“I like it,” he breathed.
He was big. Even through his slacks, I could tell. I wouldn’t have cared either way — it was more about what he could do with his cock rather than the size of it. But it’d be more fun for me to play with a well-endowed student, and inside, I was salivating at the thought.
On the outside, I was a cold, level-faced Domme.
“You like what?”
I wrapped my hand around his shaft.
And then I squeezed, hard, tight enough to make Carter transition from a panting moan into a wince and hiss.
“I like when you call me a good boy.”
“What’s that?” I squeezed a bit harder.
“I like when you call me a good boy!”
I grinned, releasing him, but not before I rewarded him with a soothing stroke. He was still panting as I sat back in my chair, reaching for my wine glass.
“Then let’s finish this, and perhaps I’ll consider bending that doctor-approval rule in order to have a little fun tonight.”
Carter looked as desperate as I wanted him to be as he quickly scanned the rest of the pages, and then he scribbled his signature fast and messy before sliding the pages to me.
“No more questions?” I asked.
“Not at the moment.”
I carefully scrawled my own signature. “Well then, Mr. Fabri,” I said. “Are you ready for your first lesson?”
He swallowed, voice cracking when he asked, “Now?”
I shrugged, standing slowly and noting how his gaze followed the gold chain that disappeared under my blouse. “Unless you need a week to prepare,” I teased, tilting my head. “Do you want to carb load? Watch video? Get a pep talk from Coach?”
Carter stood a little too fast, knocking his thigh against the edge of the table. “No! Shit, that hurt,” he said, rubbing the spot. His cock was still hard, pitching a tent against his slacks.
Why did I find it so fucking endearing that he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be so eager?
“No,” he repeated, schooling his expression. “I’m ready.”
I grinned.
“Oh, Rook,” I said, circling the table slowly, heels clicking with each predatory step I took. “You have no idea how not ready you are.”
Earn It
Carter
I was embarrassingly hard before she even laid a finger on me.
Okay, so that was a bit harsh. Technically, she did lay a finger on me. In fact, she laid her whole damn hand on me and rubbed my cock before squeezing it so hard I didn’t know if I wanted to scream and shove her away, or groan and beg for more.
I was so out of my element, but fuck, was I enjoying it. I still could barely believe Livia had agreed to the whole thing, so any time she shot me a look or rewarded me with a little piece of praise, it was enough to have me panting and howling for more.
It wasn’t just that I was excited to touch her — though Jesus, that alone was enough to short-circuit my entire nervous system. It was that for the first time in my life, I felt like I was taking control of the part of myself I’d always been too ashamed to own.
I’d spent years trying to scrub off the voice of my OHL coach who’d broken me down. He’d told me I was too soft, too easily rattled, too emotional to lead. And I’d believed him. My parents had watched me turn from a confident, happy kid who loved to play hockey, into an anxiety-riddled mess who couldn’t perform.
That pressure had haunted me for years — on the ice, in the locker room, in bed. Eventually, I was able to work with Coach McCabe, with our goalie, Will Perry, and with other players to figure out how to be better for the team. I’d painstakingly slowly figured my shit out, and I finally felt like a reliable teammate who could show up, play the puck, pass and score, and contribute to a winning season.
This was my opportunity to do the same thing for my personal life — this time, with Livia as my coach.
And I knew before we even got started that she wasn’t just going to teach me — she was going to give me the tools to make the changes on my own. I could see it in her predatory gaze already, how she wanted me to crave the power of knowing exactly what I was doing and exactly how to make someone else feel good.
I’d fought tooth and nail to find confidence on the ice, building it brick by brick with every game, every season, every brutal loss and hard-earned win. Now, I had a chance to do the same thing here: to torch the fear, rewrite the narrative, and become the kind of man who didn’t just score, but dominated.