Forbidden Pleasure: Daddy's Favorite Student

Elizabeth’s POV

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating angrily on the nightstand.

I groaned, barely shifting, and instantly regretted it. A sharp pain flared between my thighs. I winced, biting down on a gasp as I turned to my side. Every movement reminded me of last night. Every throb, every ache, every bruised spot on my skin was a souvenir he had left behind.

Sebastian Gray.

God.

My phone vibrated again. I reached for it with a shaky hand, not to check the screen but to stop the noise. The sun shone through the slits in the curtain, casting soft shadows across the sheets.

The same sheets he had pinned me against. The same ones I had clawed at when he whispered filth into my ear while making me feel things I never knew my body was capable of.

I closed my eyes, reminiscing.

He had asked me if I was sure.

Twice.

And both times, I had said yes. Desperately. Like the answer had been waiting on my tongue since the first day I walked into his class and saw him leaning against his desk like he belonged to another era, untouchable, reserved, terrifyingly magnetic.

Last night, he touched every part of me I thought no one ever would.

I remembered the ropes, how tightly he had tied them, but never too tight. The way he had kissed my shoulder before bending me forward. The low, commanding tone he used when he told me not to look away from the mirror.

I had looked.

I had watched myself come undone under him. More than once.

And now I was sore.

I sat up slowly and dragged the sheet around me. The scent of him still clung to the pillow beside mine. He was gone, obviously. But he said I could leave whenever I wanted. That was the only goodbye I had gotten. Guilt rooted itself in my chest, embarrassment too. I had said and done things to that older man, how would I live it out?.

Considering that he worked in my university, but thankfully my department wasn't too close to his. I could avoid him.

The clock on the wall said 10:42 a.m.

I finally decided to check my phone.

Seventeen messages. Five missed calls.

Most of them were from unknown numbers. Probably classmates. Curious vultures wanting to know if the hallway drama was real. If I had more tears to offer. Unfortunately for the gossip queens, I did not.

____

After that night, things changed.

I didn’t post, didn’t party, didn’t attend a single campus event. I withdrew from the noise and tucked myself behind the fortress of my textbooks. I cut off the whispers with silence, and the rumors died faster than expected. People moved on, well I figured because in actuality college attention spans were short.

Except mine.

I pushed myself harder than I ever had before. My days became mechanical, rotating around class, library, work and sleep. I didn’t let myself feel anything, I didn't let myself remember. Not Ethan’s betrayal, and certainly not the way Sebastian Gray had held me like I was something he was allowed to break. And God help me, I had begged for it.

I buried the memories of that night under academic journals and problem sets. And slowly, painfully, it worked.

I ended my senior year with a GPA so clean it gleamed. My professors noticed. The dean noticed. And one afternoon, I got an email that changed everything:

“Congratulations. You’ve been awarded the Ellsworth Academic Excellence Grant. Your final year tuition is fully covered.”

I stared at the screen until the words stopped blurring. For the first time in months, I let myself smile. A genuine one.

Until the phone call.

It was during summer break. A year after my incident with Ethan. I was staying in my small off-campus apartment, drinking lukewarm tea and working on an early research proposal when my phone rang.

May.

I stared at the name like it belonged to a ghost. I hadn’t saved her number, but I knew it by heart. My mother never called. Never texted. Not even on birthdays.

Against every instinct, I answered.

“Hello?” My voice was stiff.

There was a pause, like even she was surprised I’d picked up.

“Elizabeth.”

That voice. May never sounded warm. She sounded like she had better things to do, even though she gave birth to me.

“I wasn’t expecting you to pick up,” she added, almost defensively.

“You called me,” I said flatly.

“Right.” Another pause. “I have some news. I’m getting married this weekend. Thought you should know.”

I blinked. “Married?”

“Yes. To a wonderful and proper man."

“I want you to come,” she continued. “It’s nothing fancy. Just something private at his estate. I think....I think it’s time you met him.”

I almost laughed. After years of silence, this was the bridge she chose to build?

But part of me, some cracked, desperate part, still wanted peace with her. So I agreed.

And three days later, I stood in the sunlit garden of an estate that looked like it had been cut out of a luxury magazine. Rows of white chairs. Lavender runners. Champagne in the hands of strangers. And me, awkward in a pale blue dress, hair pulled back, while clutching a gift I didn’t want to give.

I didn’t see the groom, my mother's husband until the ceremony began. When I caught sight of him, I had to rub my eyelids.... just to be sure.

He was tall. Broad. Perfectly put together. I had scratched his back, I had kissed his lips, I had rode his....

Sebastian Gray. My professor. My only one-night stand. My mother’s groom?

The world tilted and left me in some alternate reality.

He didn’t notice me at first. His hand was on May’s lower back, his face composed as ever. But then his eyes scanned the crowd and then stopped on me.

His hand tightened around my mother's back and his brow arched in surprise.

"Elizabeth," I could almost hear the murmur from his lips.