MASTERING THE PROFESSOR
TAKEN IN HER OFFICE
by A.J. Steele
The moment Gage Rutherford enters Professor Emma Burke’s office she knows she’s in for a wild ride. Because Gage Rutherford, billionaire businessman, is the super-sexy Dom whose eye she’d caught, and from whom she’d fled, four nights ago at Club Illusion. The very same super-sexy Dom she’s been dreaming and fantasizing about ever since.
He wants her. Desperately. And he’s willing to go to any lengths to have her any way he can get her. In the office. In the dungeon. In the elevator…the club…the woods…
Fortunately for Gage, she wants him just as badly. But he is way out of her league. His reputation as a love-’em-and-leave-’em sadist is well known. Is she enough of a masochist to submit to this hard-edged Dom without losing her heart?
“How do you do, Mr. Rutherford. I’m Emma Burke.” She waved her hand to indicate one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Please. Have a seat.”
“Thank you. And call me Gage.” He released her hand and sat with a physical grace she found unusual in such a big man. He was at least six feet four and heavily muscled, yet he moved with the oiled elegance of a predatory cat.
Yeah. And I’m the prey. She shivered.
“Rutherford, huh?” She heard herself saying. “As in Rutherford Hall? Rutherford Library? Rutherford Medical Center? That Rutherford?”
With a smile, he ducked his head. “Guilty. My family has been giving grants to this university for over a hundred and fifty years.”
“While making sure everyone knows about it by putting their name on everything,” she said. She’d been teasing, yet the moment the words were out of her mouth she wanted to call them back. “I’m sorry,” she said, a stricken look crossing her face. “I didn’t realize how critical that was going to sound. That was rude of me. I—” she broke off, just stared at him helplessly, watching his eyes darken with some kind of deep emotion.
“Yes, it was, Professor Burke.” His voice was stern, but his expression was mocking, so she wasn’t certain what he was actually thinking. “Quite rude, in fact. And I’m afraid you have just earned a punishment.”
She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Punishment,” he repeated pleasantly as if he were discussing his favorite dessert. “Actually, you’ve earned two punishments. One for your rudeness just now, the other for disobeying a direct order on Friday night.” At her blank stare, he continued. “I told you to wait for me. You didn’t.” One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “In the future, know that when I tell you to do something it is not a suggestion. And disobedience will be punished.”
Flummoxed, she groped for right words, but her mind had turned to oatmeal. “Look, I know you’re the man I saw in the club. I know there was some sort of—weird—connection between us—but—”
“So you did feel it!”
“Why did you leave?” he asked.
She stood abruptly, trying to hide her anxiety in bluster. “Okay, that’s it. I don’t know if this is how you normally get dates or not, but if that’s why you’re here, it’s not going to work.”
“Why. Did. You. Leave?” he repeated without raising his voice, emphasizing each word then clipping it off neatly as if he were using scissors.
“Why did I—oh. I—” She bit her lip, eyeing him cautiously, wondering whether to tell the truth or prevaricate. She knew from her research into BDSM and her brief foray into the lifestyle with Hank, that Doms valued honesty above all else and this man gave new meaning to the word ‘dominant.’
“You wanted to yield to me. I could tell.”
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I—you—”
“I frightened you.” It was a statement of fact.
She nodded her head.
“I thought as much. I could feel your fear. I could see it in your eyes. In every line of your very submissive body.” He fixed his gaze on her. “And do you know what that did to me, Professor Burke? What it’s still doing to me even now?”
He stood and she couldn’t help it. Her gaze fell to below his waist and she suddenly stopped breathing. The bulge in his pants was enormous. Her muscles tensed as she fought the sudden, violent urge to duck and hide under her desk. Then she had to fight an equally violent urge to drop to her knees, unzip his pants and take his enormous cock into her mouth.
His eyes bore into hers, pinning her to the spot.
“It called to me” he went on in that deep baritone voice that resonated through her like the tremors of an earthquake. “It drew me to you like a siren’s song. Just as it has been drawing sadists to masochists since the beginning of time.”
Turning to come around the desk, she stopped dead in her tracks as he started doing the same thing. Slowly, like a stalking cat, he skirted the edge of the desk, moving toward her.
Her heartbeat accelerated even more and she suddenly feared she was going to have a stroke.
“But I-I’m not—”
“A masochist? Ah, but I think you are, my dear professor. I think you are. I think you want the pain that I can give you. You crave the pleasure that only I can give you.”
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From fairies in the garden at age 9 to handcuffs in the boudoir at age 60, Julie’s writing has run the gamut. In between she managed to graduate cum laude with a B.A. in French from Georgia State University followed by a Master’s Degree in Library Science from Emory University. Having thus procured these two necessary but ultimately irrelevant pieces of paper, she launched a successful career as a children’s librarian, followed by an even more successful career as a professional storyteller and puppeteer. She published Kidstuff, an award-winning, monthly newsletter, as well as a book, Puppets, Poems and Songs, both major language arts resource for early childhood educators.
At various points in her life, if asked what she would like to be, her answer would have been (in rough chronological order, since some of these lofty ambitions overlapped): a fairy, a princess, a ballerina, Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, a paleontologist, Scarlett O’Hara, thin and beautiful, an actress, and a writer. Now, at age 73, her answer to that question would most likely be, “younger”.
Followed closely, of course by bestselling author. Oh, and a princess. Some dreams die hard.
Now retired, Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
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