All Chapters of Submissive Academy: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Danika Addison climbs into the limo with effortless grace, her presence drawing the eyes of every man in the room. Some of them cheer her arrival, but all I can do is take a deep breath to steady myself, then follow her inside. The door slams shut behind me, sealing us in this moment. Daniel knocks on the driver's glass as I settle into the seat beside her. The car launches forward, its turbo engine roaring to life. My hand instinctively moves to rest on Dani’s knee, grounding her, anchoring her to me as the night begins. Fuck. Her skin is so soft beneath my fingers. It feels like I’m touching something too precious, too fragile. It should be a goddamn sin to have this kind of access to her. In a way, it IS a sin. Noah presses a whiskey into my hand, and I don’t even hesitate before taking it. My knuckles ache from the heavy punches I threw at Henry earlier, the skin already bruising, but I wear it like a badge of honor. Henry’s in another limo. He promised not to even look at Da

Her face falls like a curtain dropping. The instant I say the words, her whole body shifts—subtle, but I feel it. She leans away from me, eyes sharpening with distrust. And anger. Not fear. Not hesitation. No, this is defiance. “What? No,” she blurts quickly, voice flat and resistant. But it’s too late. She’s already standing in front of my father. “Dad, meet Danika. My sub,” I say, my tone serious, anchoring. Claiming. “Danika, meet Mark—my dad.” There’s a long pause. Her body stiffens. Her hand hesitates before slowly extending, like it costs her something to offer it. “Nice to meet you,” she says. But her tone? It screams anything but. My dad, ever the polished diplomat, takes her hand and gives it a firm shake. He doesn’t miss a beat. “Danika. Beautiful name,” he says easily. “My son treating you well?” The question catches her off guard. I watch it ripple through her posture—her brows twitch, her lips part slightly, and for a second, she looks like she’s struggling to fi

“Aiden,” I whisper, reaching up to take his hand. “I don’t want you to stop.” “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he replies, leaning down until our foreheads almost touch. His body hovers above mine, tense and barely restrained. I feel the heat of his cock, hard and pulsing, right against me—but he’s holding back. Barely. He’s finding his control. But I’m losing mine. I want him. Gods, I want him. I guide his hand down my body, slow and deliberate. My other hand finds his cheek, softening the war inside him. His green eyes search mine, wild and pleading. “You want to make me yours?” I whisper. “Then take me.” His hand is almost at my hip. And then—he stops me. “No, Ombra,” he says, pulling back like it physically pains him. “I will not destroy your future.” His words slice through me. The crash is instant. I’d been teetering at the edge, ready to leap just to feel him inside me, to lose myself in his skin. And he... won’t let me fall. “It's my body. My choice

I'm being carried into a house. The world around me is soft and blurred, like a dream. It smells like homemade apple pie—warm, sweet, comforting. Golden lights glow from the walls, flickering gently against polished rose quartz stones, casting delicate reflections across the ceiling. Pictures line the hallway: a laughing couple, a dog leaping midair to catch a ball, frozen snapshots of happiness. Where the hell am I? We float past a photograph of a young Aiden, his bright smile radiating happiness as a man I recognize as his father stands proudly behind him, one strong hand on his small shoulder. There's so much pride in his father’s eyes that it squeezes at something deep inside my chest. Up the steps we go, the wooden boards creaking softly underfoot, into a large, inviting room. Glass balcony doors stretch open to a moonlit sky. A fire crackles in the corner, the warmth of it sinking into my cold skin and seeping into my bones. I’m placed gently onto a massive bed, the cool, wh

I marvel at Aiden’s house as he guides me downstairs, dressed in his clothes—an oversized shirt and baggy sweatpants that threaten to slip off my hips. The house is bright and airy, just like the villa we’re staying at. But this one... it feels different. It feels like a home. The walls are covered in framed photographs, laughter and love captured in frozen moments. I can feel it—happiness, friendship, family. It's stitched into every inch of this place. Aiden leads me outside to a sunny patio, where a large wooden table waits, already occupied by two people. Ali sits with a steaming mug in one hand, a book opened in front of her. Mark lounges beside her, his arm casually draped over the back of her chair. And a chicken perched on his head. I freeze mid-step. "I'm so sorry," Aiden mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose like he has the world's biggest headache. "I did warn you about crazyville. Dad!" Both of them look up at the sound of his voice. "Good morning, son," Mark g