My Professor, My Stepfather, My Sin

02

Sophia’s POV

Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of a building I'd never seen before with no sign on the door.

Just a dark entrance and a bouncer standing outside.

"The Vault," the driver said. "Private club. You need to know someone to get in. You know someone?"

I shook my head.

"Then you're probably not getting im miss."

I paid him anyway and got out of the cab.

I didn't know anyone I didn't belong here. I was just some eighteen-year-old girl in a cheap jacket and old jeans, heartbroken and angry and so damn tired of being the good girl.

The good girl.

That's what everyone called me. The good girl who did what she was told, good girl who never caused trouble.

Look where that got me.

I walked up to the bouncer. He was huge, all muscle and tattoos, with a face that said he'd seen everything and wasn't impressed by any of it.

"You need to be on the list," he said with his voice was flat.

"I'm not on any list."

"Then you can't come in."

"Please." My voice cracked. "I just—I need to be somewhere that isn't my head. I need to not think Just for one night please."

He shared a knowing look with his colleague before moving aside and letting me in.

“It’s your lucky day… go slut around”

I bit in my lower lip walking inside my sneakers clicking against the sticky floor and made a beeline for the bar.

“Double vodka neat,” I shouted over the music, sliding onto a stool.

The bartender nodded pouring the amber liquid into a heavy glass. I drank it in one gulp feeling the burn slide down my throat and settle warm in my belly.

Another followed then a third. By the time the fourth glass arrived, my vision was soft at the edges the world tilting just enough to make everything feel like a dream.

I scanned the sea of bodies, looking for something, anything to distract me from the image of Caleb and Mia’s hair.

Then my eyes landed on the dark orbs that was staring me with such intensity that made my knees weak.

His hair was salt‑and‑pepper, slicked back, and his eyes dark almost black swept the crowd with a predator’s calm.

He looked easily twice my age, maybe late thirties or early forties with a jawline that could cut glass and a shirt stretched tight over a chest that hinted at hidden power.

I should look away.

Everything about this man screamed danger, unholy.

I bit on my lower lip mustering up the remaining dignity left in me and skidding off my stool making my way there.

The crowd parted like a tide as I approached and when I was close enough to smell his cologne something spicy and expensive I leaned in with my voice low enough that only he could hear over the thump.

“Hey,” I said letting my fingertips brush the edge of his jacket. “You look like you could use some company.”

He turned his head those eyes locking onto mine with a intensity that made my pulse jump. “And what makes you think I need company?” he asked with his voice low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my chest.

I let my hand slide down his arm feeling the corded muscle beneath the fabric. “Because you look like you’ve been waiting for someone to break the rules tonight.” I pressed my palm flat against the bulge in his pants feeling the heat and length of his c**k straining against the fabric. “You wanna f**k me?” I whispered my breath hot against his ear. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Where was the courage coming from?

Definitely from the alcohol.

He stared at me for a heartbeat then a smirk curled his lips. “Careful what you ask for little one”

I laughed a breathy sound that was half nervous half daring. “I like danger.”

His hand slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his heart hammering against my back, matching the rhythm of the bass.

He lowered his mouth to my ear his tongue tracing the shell before he spoke.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured his voice rough. “I don’t do virgins.”

What!?

How does he know?

Was it that obvious?

I froze for a split second then pushed my hips forward, grinding against him. “Make an exception,” I breathed my fingers digging into his shoulders. “I want you to be the first.”

He stared at me searching my face for any sign of hesitation finding none, he lowered his head and captured my lips in a kiss that was demanding and hungry.

His teeth nipped my lower lip and I moaned, opening my mouth to let his tongue slide in, exploring, claiming.

His hands roamed down my back cupping my ass and squeezing hard enough to make me gasp.

He lifted me slightly his fingers slipping under the hem of my pants finding the wet heat between my thighs.

I could feel his thumb circling my c**t sending jolts of pleasure up my spine.

“f**k,” he growled pulling back just enough to look at me. “You’re so f*****g wet.”

He took me with him to the private area. I'm not sure how with my memory already fuzzy around the edges but somehow we ended up in a room with a bed and dim lighting.

“Strip,” he ordered.

I fumbled with my clothes, too drunk and desperate to be graceful. When I was bare he dropped between my spread thighs, but instead of giving me his mouth he just breathed on my soaked p***y.

“Look how wet you are already,” he murmured. “Needy little thing.”

I lifted my hips, chasing contact. “Please—lick me.”

He blew a soft stream of air over my c**t. I whimpered.

“Beg properly.”

“Please,” I gasped, “I need your tongue”

He dragged one finger up my slit barely grazing the swollen bud making my whole body jerked.

“Again,” he said.

“Please”

“Look at you,” he whispered voice thick with awe. “Desperate little slut .”

He leaned in his tongue dragging slowly from my entrance up to my c**t, then back again, each stroke deliberate and torturous.

I arched my back gripping the back of his neck, my nails digging into his scalp as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

He sucked hard his lips sealing around my bud, his tongue flicking rapidly. I moaned a raw needy sound.

“God, you taste like sin,” he muttered against my skin with his breath hot.

Pleasure shot through me like lightning then he pulled away the second my thighs started to shake.

“No!” I cried. “Don’t stop!”

“Needy girls don’t get to decide when they c*m,” he said with his voice calm while his tongue traced lazy circles just outside my entrance. Every flick was too light, too slow.

My orgasm hovered right there, aching, denied.

He worshipped every inch kissing my inner thighs, nibbling the soft skin, his hands massaging my hips, pulling me closer to his face.

I could feel his erection pressing against his pants a hard ridge that begged for release.

When he finally pulled back his lips were slick with my juices, his eyes darkened with lust. He fumbled with his belt pulling out a condom from his pocket with practiced ease.

And as he set his manhood free I froze, thinking how on earth that was going to fit inside of me.

He rolled on a condom with one hand while the other gripped my throat not tight enough to hurt just enough to remind me who was in charge.

“Last chance to back out,” he warned.

I shoved him onto his back and climbed over him lining that blunt head against my entrance. “I’m not backing out. Make love to me.”

I could feel him throb through the condom, desperate for release.

“I don’t make love.. I f**k little one”

“Then f**k me”

He groaned a sound that seemed torn from deep within him.

“Please…” I whispered leaning forward to capture his lips again. “Take me..”

The tip of his c**k pressed against my entrance, slick with both my arousal and the lubricant of the condom.

He paused his forehead resting against mine.

“If you change your mind—”

“I won’t,” I cut him off annoyingly with my voice fierce. “f**k me.”

He thrust forward breaking through my barrier with a sharp burning stretch that made me gasp. A flash of pain shot through me, quickly overridden by an overwhelming fullness that stretched my walls.

He stilled letting me adjust with his breath ragged against my neck.

“f**k,” he groaned his voice raw. “You’re so tight.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist pulling him deeper. He began to move, slow at first, each thrust deliberate, testing my response.

My moans grew louder as he picked up speed, his hips snapping against mine with increasing force.

“Harder,” I begged my fingers clawing at his back. “Give it to me all.”

He obliged slamming into me fast.

His mouth found my neck sucking hard enough to leave a mark his teeth grazing my skin. He whispered filthy praises between gasps—“You feel amazing,” “So f*****g tight,”

I could feel the pressure building a tight knot low in my abdomen.

My nails dug into his shoulders with my back arched and I cried out as the orgasm hit a wave of white-hot ecstasy that shattered my senses.

My p***y clenched around his c**k milking him and I felt his own release building.

He groaned his movements becoming erratic, his thrusts shallow and desperate his hips driving forward one last time before he froze, his body shuddering as he came.

Hot spurts filled the condom his release pulsing deep inside me making him collapse against me.

Before the realization dawned upon me.

What did I do?