Sallinger, Elene - Reflection (The Chrysalis Series)

‘Bridget, I want you to trust me so that you can finally let what happened go. That’s all I really meant. I want to show you what sex can be between two consenting adults and I want to show you what we can be together.’ He kissed her gently. ‘If you’ll let me, that is.’

‘OK,’ she murmured into his shoulder despite the butterflies that had multiplied exponentially in her stomach. Squeezing Connor, she repeated, ‘OK.’

She hoped like heck she knew what she was doing.

Dale Whittier liked the finer things in life. As he stirred a spoonful of organic cane sugar into his freshly-brewed, dark roast Colombian coffee, he contemplated how he’d come to be at Pinewood. Serving as Dean at some tiny little university in the middle-of-nowhere Vermont had not been on his agenda. He’d been a rising star at Stanford University. Firmly on his way to achieving his personal goal – president of the university.

But then that little bitch had fucked everything up when she’d reported him. The ensuing scandal had squelched his plans. She’d been a student at the university, for God’s sake. How on earth could he have been expected to know she was still underage? Besides, she’d thrown herself at him, not the other way around.

He had had no need to go seeking jailbait. She’d been in his senior level chemistry class and was obviously infatuated, flirting with him at every opportunity. Always pretending to be shy and yet making sure her buttons were always undone just enough that he got a face full of tits every time she leaned over her desk.

She’d come to every single study session and office hours too. And she’d always brought cookies and other treats. If he said he liked chocolate chip cookies, she made sure to bring them the very next time.

She did everything except beg him to fuck her. Who was he not to oblige? If she wanted to ride his cock so bad, he’d let her. Then the bitch had reported him. Cocksucking little cunt. He’d been allowed to “quietly resign” for his ethical violation.

He’d done the bitch a favour and what had he gotten for it? A one-way ticket to Vermont and this tiny university that was below him. The only saving grace being that now, rather than Professor, he was Dean of the School of Sciences and once again back on the fast track to president.

And he certainly didn’t lack for pussy. With his combination of money and looks, women practically threw themselves at him. Gold-digging little whores that they were. They all just wanted his money. They served a purpose, though. A grin split his face as he thought of that purpose. He did love to fuck. He couldn’t get enough. And he took what he wanted. There was nothing better than a woman submitting to his will.

Oh, he didn’t force himself on them, he was no rapist, but he loved that look of utter helplessness; the self-recrimination that flooded their eyes as he took them. Little Skyler had been the best so far. He especially loved a virgin.

Initiating them was its own intoxication. Their tight little pussies, untried and waiting for him to mark them. Every man who came after would be for ever held in comparison to him whether they wanted it or not. Every man who came after him would benefit from his training. He served his fellow man even as he served himself.

Skyler could suck a mean cock now. She could swallow him down and lick his nuts in one breath and what she could do with her pussy was off the charts. She could milk the come out of him in no time flat.

Her tears had been sublime. She’d tried to break things off with him, claiming an attack of conscience, but he wasn’t done with her yet. Her scholarship was under his control and he’d made sure she knew that. Sure, she could switch majors, lose her scholarship. That’s all she had to do to end their affair, but she lived and breathed chemistry. Her dream, as she’d so sweetly shared with him that first “chance” meeting over coffee, was to work for the FBI as a forensic chemist and do drug analysis. CSI-type stuff.

You didn’t do that without a chemistry degree. With her family being so financially strapped, she needed her scholarship. She couldn’t just pick up and transfer. Dale grinned at how neatly he’d trapped her.

Pulling back the cuff on his silk sweater, he checked the time. Ross was late. She was so passive aggressive with him. She honestly believed she wasn’t going to fuck him. He snorted and took another sip of his coffee. They all gave him what he wanted in the end.

With Bridget, the chase had been fun. Her little gasps and shivers when he “accidentally” touched her were especially sweet. Unlike most, she was playing hard to get. It had been cute at first, but it was wearing thin.

She needed to get with the programme. Skyler was outliving her usefulness and she’d already proven to be irresponsible. The little cunt had gotten pregnant after swearing she was on the pill.

He wasn’t going to be saddled with a brat; she’d better keep that appointment or there would be hell to pay. His physician was discreet, at least, he didn’t have to worry about this getting around campus, but the fun of fucking her was gone now. He couldn’t relax and let go knowing there was a brat in there, and she’d proven she could no longer be trusted.

Yes, he was almost done with her. It was time for bigger fish and Bridget was definitely bigger in all the right places. Big tits that would wrap nicely around his dick and an ass that was begging to be fucked. He bet she was a crier too. She’d weep pretty tears the entire time and he’d taste them as he came. His body hardened at the thought.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Bridget walked through the door.

His heart thundered in his chest at the sight of her, just as it did every time he saw her.

Bridget’s stomach lurched at the realisation that Dean Whittier was alone in the conference room. She’d deliberately come five minutes late just to ensure she wasn’t the first to arrive. She glanced at the clock on the panelled wall; it was definitely 8.05 a.m.

Whittier sat there looking elegantly predatorial. He was immaculately dressed in a sweater and slacks, sipping coffee as if he hadn’t a care in the world, except for the fact that he looked like a lion who’d just scented a gazelle.

‘Bridget.’ He inclined his head her way. ‘You’re looking lovely as always.’

‘Where is everyone?’ She stopped short of actually entering the room and stood framed in the doorway.

‘The rest of the staff will be here at 8.30, I wanted to speak with you privately first.’ He set his coffee on the table and indicated for her to sit with a sweep of his hand.

Reluctantly, Bridget took the seat at the far end of the table, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Dean Whittier stood and moved to close the door. Her heart rate jacked up a notch at being alone and behind closed doors with him.

‘Coffee?’ he asked, moving over to the sideboard and picking up the carafe.

‘No, thank you.’

He ignored her and poured her a cup. He even added cream and sugar, leaving her bewildered at his knowledge of how she took her coffee, and set the mug in front of her. Rather than return to the seat she’d found him in, he sat catty-corner to her.

‘Ross, as you know your tenure evaluation is coming up at the end of the semester.’

He leaned forward and looked her in the eye. She trembled at the look of smugness she saw there. There was nothing warm in those eyes. They were the blue of ice and she shivered as they bore into her. Gripping the coffee cup, she vainly tried to absorb some of its warmth into her body.

‘I think it’s time that you and I got on the same page.’

He stroked a long, elegant finger along her arm, raising goosebumps and causing her stomach to clench again as she pulled her hand back, shoving it between her legs. Anger flashed across his face, but he quickly schooled his expression.