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Forbidden Pleasure: Daddy's Favorite Student . Novel Cover

Forbidden Pleasure: Daddy's Favorite Student .

After being unceremoniously dumped in her sophomore year of college, Elizabeth makes the reckless decision to sleep with the elusive Sebastian Gray, who she'd been crushing on for ages. Just one night and she'll never see him again, she thinks. That decision comes back to bite her in the ass when she returns home for her mother's wedding a year later and finds out that her soon to be stepfather is none other than Sebastian! Forced to bear the brunt of the consequences while biting her tongue, Elizabeth resolves to avoid Sebastian from now on. But it turns out to be a futile effort as the first person she sees on her list of professors for senior year is HIM! If she didn't know any better, she'd think he enjoyed torturing her. Because every time he's close to her, all of her common sense flies out the window. And his touches are becoming far too frequent for it to be coincidental...
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Chapter 9

**Elizabeth's POV**

Without a moment's hesitation, I stormed into the guest room and slammed the door behind me, the sound reverberating off the walls like a thunderclap.

"Don't break down the door; this isn't your house!" May's voice rang out, sharp and biting.

"You don't have to be so mean, you know," I heard Sebastian interject softly, trying to calm the tension.

"What? She isn't welcome here, so don't let her think she is," May retorted, each word dripping with disdain.

The room enveloped me in warmth, a cozy sanctuary tailored for the chilly day outside, yet it did little to erase the gnawing feeling of being an unwelcome intruder. Every glimpse of May only deepened my longing for my dad. It was a cruel thought that clawed at my mind, but I couldn't help but imagine a world where May had been the one to leave us behind.

A few minutes later, Sebastian stepped inside, a freshly ironed oversized t-shirt draped casually over his arm.

"I know this is your house, but at least knock before you enter," I snapped, irritation bubbling over. "What if I was naked?"

He approached, his presence filling the space between us, standing just a breath away. The heat radiating from him made my skin tingle in response.

He let out a soft scoff, a playful smirk dancing at the corners of his pink lips. "See you naked? I don't think that will be the first time."

His gaze held mine, deliberate and tantalizing, as if each second stretched between us, charged with an undeniable electricity.

I took a step back, instantly regretting the proximity. "Your wife is still awake in the other room, you know."

A playful smirk danced at the corners of his lips as his gaze remained fixed on mine, unwavering and intense. "She's snoring away in the other room. Must have had one too many glasses of wine," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

May had always drowned herself in a sea of wine, swirling her emotions with each sip whenever a man was about to step through the door.

"Well, that doesn't change the fact that she's still in the house," I pressed, my frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Here, put this on," he said, stretching a soft, worn t-shirt toward me, its fabric bearing the faint scent of him. "I'll whip up something for you to eat."

At the mention of food, my stomach twisted uncomfortably, a stark reminder that I hadn't eaten since lunchtime, the hunger gnawing at me like a relentless tide.

After dinner, Sebastian returned with a midnight snack in hand. He breezed into the room without the courtesy of knocking, and I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the dressing mirror that reflected my exasperation.

"I thought we could chat over this," he said, holding up a steaming bowl of buttery popcorn, the tantalizing aroma wafting through the air, teasing my senses.

"If you're here to discuss my mother, then I'm not interested," I shot back, my tone sharp. Without sparing him a fleeting glance, I bent down to retrieve the hair ribbon that had slipped from my grasp, feeling the weight of the moment pressing in around us.

When I stood up, he was standing behind me. Our bodies brushed against each other.

My heart raced. I could feel the heat from him and my body seemed to want more physical contact.

"Well, I thought we could talk about us," he whispered, his lips brushing against my earlobe.

A shock wave coursed through my body, my folds moist. Eyes shut. Lips pouted, and fingers grabbed tightly onto the dressing table. I tried to warn myself that he belonged to my mother, but she didn't deserve an atom of loyalty and my body definitely thought so too.

I didn't know when I replied. Voice laced with longing. "What about us?."

He paused. I could hear a soft chuckle escape his lips. "You're rock hard."

Slightly I opened my eyes to look at us in the mirror. My eyes darted to my nipple

It was rock hard and popped out of the t-shirt.

Embarrassment snapped me out of the heat that was brewing inside. I moved away from him, cleared my throat and said. "This is not right, she's still my mother."

There was a brief and loud silence. His gaze settled on my hard nipple. Flushed, I crossed my arms on my chest, hiding my nipples. His smirked, eyes dark with lust. He swallowed hard, eyes squeezed shut, as if pushing back the intense desire that threatened to take over.

Then he opened his eyes. Nodded, and raised his hand. A sign of surrender. "Okay, you win. But let's see how long you can fight the longing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, avoiding eye contact.

He smiled. "It's okay, we'll see about that," he said, before walking out of the room.

***

**Sebastian's POV**

As I walked through the door, a whirl of emotions crashed over me. The relief that May was indeed fine, that her drama had merely been a desperate play for my attention, mingled with confusion. What would Elizabeth think about this situation? Deep down, I knew she could read her mother like a book; she understood the unspoken desires that lay beneath the surface-desires that pointed squarely at me.

I had just laid bare the details of my complicated relationship with May to Elizabeth, hoping it would help clear the air. Yet, as I stood there, uncertainty gnawed at me. What words could I muster to make her understand? I owed her nothing, but the thought of leaving her with misconceptions twisted in my chest. I couldn't bear the idea of her feeling lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

The tension between Elizabeth and May now made a cruel kind of sense. Their relationship resembled a battlefield far more than the nurturing bond it was meant to represent. It was no surprise, really, that Elizabeth's name had been absent from our conversations until now.

Elizabeth-the tender heart caught in the crossfire of a tumultuous family dynamic-was still so young, desperately yearning for the unwavering love and support of a parent. But in a twist of fate, the only person meant to nurture her had instead chosen to disdain her. Add to this the torment she faced daily at school, and my heart shattered at the thought of her struggle. In that moment, a fierce protective instinct ignited within me; I wanted nothing more than to shield her from the world's cruelty and be the steadfast guardian she so desperately needed.

For that one mission, that brief but intense night we spent together kept playing in my head like a song on replay. It was a night where perhaps, just perhaps, I could be the person to lift the weight off her young shoulders.

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