All Chapters of Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The semester ended in a haze of finals and forced normalcy. I turned in my thesis on time, got an A in the class, which was fair, I knew it was fair because he’d been harder on me than anyone else in feedback—and graduated in May with the rest of my friends, walking across the stage in a graduation cap and gown while my parents cheered from the stands.He was there, of course, in the faculty section, clapping politely when my name was called. Our eyes met for half a second, and that was it.We hadn’t spoken since that last night at his place, the one where we’d fucked like it might be the end and then talked until dawn about being careful, about waiting until after graduation.We agreed on no contact until the diploma was in my hand. It felt like the right thing, but it also felt like torture.I spent the summer at home with my parents, two hours away, working a boring internship at a local magazine, going out with high school friends who felt like strangers now, trying not to check m

The first thing I felt when I woke up later was the ache. Not just the good kind between my legs—though that was there, deep and throbbing, a constant reminder of how thoroughly he’d wrecked me, but everywhere. My shoulders from his grip, my thighs from being spread wide for hours, my neck from the spot he’d sucked and bitten until it bruised.The second thing was the heat. He was still inside me, his knot hadn’t gone down fully yet, even though the sun was already filtering through the trees, turning the forest gold and soft. We were locked together, his chest pressed to my back, one heavy arm draped over my waist, hand splayed possessively across my stomach.I shifted a little, testing, and immediately felt it—the thick swell at the base of his cock stretching me open, keeping him buried deep.A low rumble vibrated against my spine.He was awake. “Careful,” Elias murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hips flexed instinctively, pushing deeper, and I gasped at the pressure.“Sorry,” I

Three weeks after the pack gathering, I woke up in Elias’s bed with my skin on fire.Not like fever-hot, but needy-hot. Every inch of me was sensitive, and aching for his touch. My nipples were hard against the sheets, core throbbing empty, already wet just from dreaming about him.He was in the shower—I could hear the water running—but the second I sat up, a wave of dizziness hit me, followed by a rush of slickness between my thighs.I whimpered, my hand sliding down instinctively, fingers circling my clit once, twice, desperately. The bathroom door opened, Elias stepped out, towel low on his hips, steam rolling behind him.He froze. His eyes flashed brightly instantly. “Fuck,” he growled, voice dropping an octave. “It’s started.”I looked at him, confused and panting. “What’s—”“Your heat,” he said, stalking toward the bed, towel dropping. His cock was already hard, thick and heavy, his knot gland faintly swollen at the base. “The bond triggered it. You’re in full heat now.”I moane

The kiss in the conference room didn’t put out the fire between us. If anything, it threw gasoline on it.Days after, I walked into the office determined to act like nothing had happened. I wore my favorite black blazer, the one that made me feel sharp and untouchable, grabbed my usual coffee from the kitchen, and headed to my desk without looking around too much. I told myself I was fine, I told myself he’d probably keep pretending it never happened too.He was already in his office when I passed by, door open, typing on his laptop like the world hadn’t tilted off its axis the night before. He glanced up as I went past, our eyes met for a split second, and then he looked back at his screen without a word, without a nod, without anything.It pissed me off more than it should have.By ten o’clock, he’d already sent an email to the whole creative team with “refinements” to my latest copy. The subject line was polite enough—“Luxe Tagline Updates”—but when I opened the attachment, it was

I hadn’t seen Mason Reed in four years, not since the day he left for basic training right after high school graduation, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, giving Mia a quick hug and me a ruffle on the head like I was still the annoying fourteen-year-old kid who tagged along everywhere.Back then, he was twenty-two, already tall and built from years of football and whatever else he did to fill his time, with that messy dark hair that always fell into his green eyes and a smile that he didn’t give out easily but when he did, it felt like you’d won something.I had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him— the kind where I’d blush if he said my name, where I’d find excuses to be at Mia’s house when he was home from college on breaks, where I’d replay the few times he’d teased me or helped me with homework in my head for days.He called me “squirt” or “kid,” and I hated it and loved it at the same time.Then he got enlisted, shipped out, and life moved on.Mia and I stayed best f