All Chapters of Submissive Academy: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The door slams shut, and the sound reverberates through my bones. “Take off your dress.” Aiden’s voice cuts through the thick air, low and commanding. It’s not a request. It’s an order, rich with the promise of what’s to come. His tone is darker now—gravel scraping against silk, already dripping with lust and dominance. Trembling slightly, I bite my lip and obey. The soft rustle of fabric slipping off my skin feels deafening in the charged silence. Aiden flicks on the bedside lamp, flooding the room in a molten orange glow. The light licks my bare skin, making the black lingerie I found earlier look even more sinful—thin lace barely veiling my nipples, a thong so tiny it’s practically an invitation. Designed for punishment. Designed for him. He stalks toward me, his gaze searing a trail down my body. There’s a feral pride in his eyes—like he’s possessed by the sight of me. He stops inches away, tucking a loose strand of my hair over my shoulder, fully baring my breasts to him

After a few hours, I stir awake. My throat feels raw, like I’ve swallowed sandpaper. Every swallow burns deep, scraping along the inside of my neck. Aiden is still plastered around me, clinging tightly even in sleep. His face is so peaceful, soft snores slipping past parted lips. He looks so innocent like this — like nothing could ever hurt us. Gently, I untangle myself from his hold, moving inch by inch, terrified of waking him. When I finally free myself, I tiptoe toward his closet, the wooden floorboards creaking faintly under my bare feet. Inside, I dig around and pull out the longest shirt I can find — a white one, worn and soft, falling down to my thighs. I grab a pair of his black boxers too, tugging them on to cover myself. My eyes catch on the shredded remains of the lingerie he tore apart earlier. Heat flushes my cheeks. Quietly, I slip from his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind me. The house is bathed in darkness. Shadows stretch long across the walls. The air

The last time I woke up in this bed was after the rugby match. It feels like another lifetime ago. I sit up before Isla even stirs. I snuck in last night, slipping under the covers without anyone noticing. Aiden and I took his private jet back, though I slept for most of the trip. I’m still weak. Thick bandages wrap around my ribs, and I’m sure the gossip in this place has already hit a fever pitch. I get ready like I used to, slipping into my school uniform, dabbing on a new pomegranate-flavored lip gloss — a gift from my Dom, whose favorite fruit just happens to be pomegranate. I’m curling my hair into loose waves when I hear Isla groan awake. She twists and turns like she’s wrestling her way out of a coma, mumbling something incoherent. When she catches sight of the open curtain and sees me standing there, she bolts upright, wiping drool from her mouth. “AAAAAAAAAHH!” She shrieks, launches out of bed — in nothing but a shirt and a thong — and crashes into me, wrapping me in

Aiden instantly pulls back, his hand slipping from my throat with a lazy, possessive grace—but he keeps me pinned firmly on my back, his weight a silent command. His eyes are molten, burning into me with a wicked gleam that makes my entire body hum with awareness. Without breaking eye contact, he grabs my knees and opens my legs wider, spreading me shamelessly before him. The air around us thickens, pulsing with raw, electric tension. His hand flattens against my stomach, fingers splayed wide like he’s marking me, silently reminding me that I belong to him. The touch is soft, deceptively gentle, but the weight of it is undeniable: he owns every inch of me, and he wants me to feel it. My breath stutters out of me, shaky and shallow, as my pulse roars in my ears. His gaze drops lower, to my most vulnerable center, and the hunger I see there—sharp, focused, ravenous—makes me tremble. He studies me, drinking in every tiny reaction, every twitch, every catch of my breath. It’s like he’s

I feel around blindly for any drawers, Ellie pressed right behind me like a second skin. “I think she keeps them in the left one. I always see her with that big bush of keys around there,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Okay,” I whisper back. My hands are shaking. Flashes of snakes curled inside drawers and spiders nesting beneath wood race through my mind. And then—something darker—what if Ms. Lovelace dabbles in something far worse? Voodoo? Curses? She’s always had that eerie, elegant way about her. Those flowing robes. That haunting stillness. I wouldn’t put anything past her. My trembling fingers move over the ridges of the desk, cool and hard beneath my skin. I reach to the left. I can’t quite feel the drawer from this angle. I inch around to the other side, needing to stand behind the desk just to reach the knob. My hand closes around cool metal—silver and round. Then— Something solid brushes my hip. My breath catches. That wasn’t there before. The lights snap