Erotic Tales by C. M. Roberts

The Professor’s Slave

Read the sample here.

Word count: ~15,000


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Melanie Silver has her future secured. She’s in her third year at Sexton University and on track to graduate with a prestigious science degree, her parents own most of the city and so she’ll never have to worry about money, and her good friend Hayden has been hinting that he wants to be more than friends. And she could just be okay with that.

Until she meets Professor Don Everett. He seems to know she’s never been with a man before, and he’s determined that he’s going to be her first—but only after he’s primed her, readied her. Because once she’s his, there’s no going back.

Everett is involved in more than Melanie knows–will she risk everything she has just to be with him for one night…or forever?


Cordelia leaves me to my own devices after the lecture, though I think she really wanted to stay to get another eyeful of Professor Don Everett. One by one the students leave. A couple of girls hang around and ask him questions about the lecture–English literature–but he answers their questions as curtly as possible. He casts the more interested girls bored looks and they quickly leave, until it’s just the two of us–me and the professor–in the large, empty lecture hall. I lean against his podium, trying not to stare at his dark red hair, and his large forearms.

But he catches me staring anyway. “I don’t usually get tag-alongs in my class.”


He chuckles. “All right. That’s a lie. At least two a week. But none quite so . . . ”

I turn away. This is heading down a dangerous road. My face burns. “Look, I know you can come out and say it. I’m a Silver. Yes, related to the Silver family who runs Silver & Sons. Nathaniel Silver is my father. He’s the C.E.O. And yes, I get that question a lot. And double yes, I know my family is in the news this week about something or other, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. And no, I can’t finance your research project, if you want to try and pull that one. A chemistry teacher in high school tried that once.”

When I finish, there’s only silence and mild astonishment from Everett. I purse my lips. Oh no. I try to backtrack. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. That’s not what you were going to say, was it? Sorry, I always just assume–”

“It’s all right,” he interrupts, cutting me off completely with his authoritative, but not unkind tone. He ventures closer with a curious glint in his eye as his gaze roams from my face to the dip in my t-shirt, following my curves down my legs to my boots standing firmly on the floor. Jumping back to my face again, his lips twitch in a half-smile. “No, I didn’t recognize your familial looks at all. Though a comment about your appearance seems warranted, given that you are quite striking.”

My heart jumps a little, and I curse myself for it. He wasn’t going to comment on my family at all. He was going to say I was beautiful. Yes, my long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and flawless skin often attracted attention, and I wasn’t averse or unused to a man’s desiring gaze, especially when they knew I came from the richest family in Sexton. But a professor…calling me beautiful, and staring at me like he wanted to take me there and then…that was beyond not allowed. That could get him fired. Worse, it could get me expelled from the university. And my parents wouldn’t like that at all.

No…my parents wouldn’t like that…would they.

“You’re a third-year student, aren’t you,” he says. It isn’t a question.

“How did you…?”

“Your keychain, sticking out of your pocket.”

I look down and there it is, my school keychain, dated three years prior. I’d gotten it in frosh week, the very first week of university.

“Yes. I’m a…science major. Biology. My…my parents wanted me to go the science route.” My voice feels small. I’m not sure why I’m telling him this, but his eyes seem to hunger for information about me. “Good money in the sciences, I guess.” Not that my family needs it.

He inches closer to me. “But you want something else.”

My breath hitches. “Yes.”

“And what would that be?”

I take a careful step towards him, and catch a whiff of his cologne: a subtle scent that is simultaneously husky and manly. I brace myself on the podium as the space around him envelops me, and challenges me to move even closer to his muscular body.

“I…I was thinking about opening a restaurant, someday.”

We both know that’s not what I want–not in this moment. My heart pounds in my ears. What is wrong with me?

At once, he grabs and twists me around, holding me from behind. I have no time to protest–and strangely enough, I don’t want to. No one has dared to lay a hand on me before, not like this. I’ve always been so protected, surrounded by family or bodyguards, or cooped up in my apartment studying. The hardness in his jeans presses against my ass, and I’m overcome with need.

“Are you a virgin, Melanie?”

His breath is hot in my ear, and warmth spreads through my core, hardening my nipples, and settles between my legs. I shouldn’t answer. This shouldn’t be happening, I’m a student, he’s a professor…

But he isn’t my professor. I’m not his student.

“Yes, I am,” I whisper.

“Mmm.” His nose brushes against my cheek as he inhales deeply. “Good. Very good. Then I will take great pleasure in–”

The door to the lecture hall creaks open and a group of girls burst through. He releases me and practically pushes me away. My cheeks flush, but the freshmen girls are oblivious to the two of us. I cross my arms to hide my perky nipples sticking through, announcing my arousal.

Professor Everett’s face is solemn. We were almost caught. Wait, what am I thinking? He was almost caught. We implies that we are an item. He was almost caught doing something not allowed. From the sparkling, dangerous look in his eyes, I see he is relishing in the moment. I grip the podium once more as heat coils and twists between my legs.

I want him. I want him now, like I’ve wanted no one else before. What is wrong with me? More students flood into the hall, and unless he’s going to take me right now, I’ll have to wait.

“I’ll see you around, Miss Silver,” he says dismissively, waving me away like nothing transpired moments before.

Stumbling backwards as the lecture hall fills once more, I clutch my heaving chest. I’m not sure what just happened, if he does this with all the girls he catches coming into his classes, but I do know one thing for certain: if he grabs me and threatens to take me again, I do not think I have the willpower to refuse.

The Professor’s Slave


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