Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Winter break is fast approaching, and I need to focus on my studies. Next semester will be all about college applications and meet and greets and all the expectations that have been laid out before me. I’m already light years behind, considering half of my peers have applied for early admissions. But even as I panic about that, I don’t know why I’m still going down this path. I have nothing to prove to anyone anymore, yet I’m as lost as I’ve ever been.
When I get back to my dorm, I’m greeted by a glaring red note on my mirror, written in my lipstick.
What the fuck, Stella.
Immediately, my stomach flips as I consider that he was here, looking for me. And from the scattered contents of my book bag on the bed, it looks like he was here for a while. Did he go through my things? Was he trying to figure out where I was?
There isn’t time to debate it now. I only have twenty minutes to change and get to my first class. But I have an awful feeling as I plug my phone in and leave it to charge that I’ll definitely be facing Sebastian’s wrath today.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SEBASTIAN
AFTER AN ENTIRE WEEKEND of radio silence from Stella, she has the audacity to trot into my class and sit down on Monday afternoon like nothing ever happened. With no regard to the fact that I’ve been losing my goddamned mind, she sits down at her desk and pulls out her journal and doesn’t even spare a single glance in my direction. Little does she know, her cold front is about to meet my desert storm.
“Stella LeClaire.” My voice slices through the classroom with the subtlety of a machete. “Why don’t you begin today. Tell us the implications of your findings on wealth inequality.”
She blinks up at me, clearly startled by my command, but rushes to retrieve her essay from the pink binder she carries in her backpack. Only, that assignment is missing, and I know this because it’s sitting on the desk in my office.
Her cheeks flush with color as she flips through the scattered mess of papers that she has never bothered to organize, another annoying fucking trait that has touched my last nerve.
“I’m so sorry,” she blurts. “I… I can’t seem to find it. But it was in here—”
“What did I tell you about coming to class prepared?” I snap.
Her eyes meet mine, and finally, she understands the gravity of what she’s done. “Don’t bother coming at all?” she answers hesitantly.
“That’s right.” I gesture to the door. “Now pack your things and go. There will be a seat in detention for you over the next two weeks.”
“Wait, Mr. Carter,” Sybil interjects. “It’s my fault.”
“This has nothing to do with you.” I dismiss her with a tone that warrants no argument and watch Stella sneak toward the door with a shadow of humiliation behind her. “Now is there anyone else who couldn’t be bothered to show up to class with their assignment today?”
“YOU’RE LATE.”
Stella offers me a defiant glare as she flings her backpack onto the desk in front of her. “So what are you going to do about it? Give me detention? Oh, wait, you already did that.”
I shut the classroom door, and with what wits I still have intact, I turn the lock and close the blinds. When I stalk toward her, she loses her attitude as she stumbles back into the desk with wide, nervous eyes.
“Where were you, Stella?” My fingers come to rest on the beating pulse in her throat before I whirl her around. She shrieks in surprise as I bend her over the desk and kick her legs apart, flipping up her skirt. To my satisfaction, the one thing she could do right today is wear a thong beneath her tights. I jam my fingers against the seam and split them down the middle, leaving a gaping hole between her thighs. With a quick yank, her thong is out of the way too, and when I slap her clit, she jumps.
“Where were you?” I repeat the question as I force her head down against the desk with one hand while unzipping my trousers with the other.
“I went to a hotel with Sybil,” she clips out, as if this is a perfectly reasonable explanation for her absence.
“You went to a fucking hotel with Sybil,” I mock. “To do what, exactly?”
“We had a spa day.”
She says this while I spread her ass apart to get a good look at her tight pink pussy, soaked with want for me even as she continues to flaunt her rebellion.
“I hope it was worth it.” The darkness of my tone is only equal to the venom in my heart as I jam my throbbing cock balls deep inside her. To my satisfaction, Stella cries out, and I twist my fingers in her hair, forcing her to arch back as I retreat and slam into her all over again.