Ruined by My Student's Billionaire Father

My student's father took my virginity.

When the sun came up, he handed me a check. It was enough to cover four years of tuition.

"Think of last night as an accident, Miss Doyle."

I tore the check in half while he watched. Then in half again.

Twenty-four hours later, his black Maybach was parked at the gates of my university.

I didn't know it yet, but soon everyone would be calling me the billionaire's kept woman.

...

The night before, it was just another Friday.

"Done!" Theo slammed his math workbook shut and grinned at me. He was seven, with a missing front tooth and his father's gray eyes. "Can I show you something, Miss Maeve?"

"Is it a frog again? Because I told you, frogs stay outside."

"It's not a frog." He dug into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. "It's homework. *My Family.*"

He smoothed it flat on the desk.

Three stick figures stood under a lopsided sun. A tall man in a tie. A small boy in a red shirt. And a girl with long brown hair and a yellow sweater.

My yellow sweater.

My cheeks went hot. "Theo, sweetheart, who's this?"

"That's you." He said it like it was obvious. "Mrs. Patel said to draw who takes care of us."

"What about your mom?"

He picked at the edge of the paper. "She lives in Paris. She doesn't take care of me."

Something inside me pinched. I tucked his hair behind his ear.

"Tell you what. Next week, we'll redo it together. We'll make it the best drawing in the whole class. Deal?"

"HOORAY!!!" He wrapped his skinny arms around my neck. Then he ran off to find his nanny, and I was alone with that drawing.

I folded it into my notebook and headed down the hall.

Every Friday, I reported to his father. That was the rule.

Ronan Kessler, CEO of Kessler Global, the man whose name was on half the buildings downtown, always listened to my updates like they were board meetings.

I knocked twice on his study door.

"Come in."

His voice sounded wrong. Rough. Like gravel.

He sat behind the massive oak desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie hanging loose. A glass of something amber sat by his hand.

"Mr. Kessler. Theo's weekly report."

"Go ahead."

I opened my notebook. "His math scores are up. Eighty-eight on the quiz. But his focus slips after half a class, so I've been doing short breaks. And..." I hesitated. "He misses his mother. He brings her up a lot."

Ronan didn't answer. His chest rose and fell fast.

I finally got a real look at him. His face was flushed, red creeping down into his collar. Sweat shone at his temples.

"Sir? Are you okay? You look like you have a fever."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine." I set my notebook down and stepped around the desk. "Let me check."

I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead.

He was burning.

His fingers closed around my wrist.

"Maeve." He'd never called me by my first name. "You shouldn't have come in here tonight."

"What do you—"

He pulled. I stumbled into his lap, and his mouth crashed onto mine.

I froze. Then I shoved at his shoulders and tore my face away.

"Mr. Kessler! Stop!"

He stopped. He was breathing hard, forehead against mine, eyes dark and glassy.

His thumb found the top button of my blouse. It slipped free. Then the next. His palm slid inside my bra and squeezed my breast, his thumb dragging over my nipple until it went tight and aching.

A sound escaped me. A moan. I'd never made a sound like that in my life.

"Sir, please, I don't—"

"You don't what?" His lips brushed mine. "Tell me."

I didn't know. That was the truth. I'd never been kissed like this. Never been touched like this. My head was full of static.

He kissed me again, slow this time, and my whole brain went white.

His hand moved down. Under my skirt. His fingers pressed against my panties, and I felt how wet I already was. It scared me.

"Maeve." His voice cracked. "I want you."

My heart was slamming against my ribs. I was terrified. I was twenty-two and had never done anything.

He lifted me and set me on the desk. Papers scattered. A pen rolled off the edge.

Then Ronan Kessler, the coldest man in the city, dropped to his knees in front of me.

He hooked my panties aside and put his mouth on my pussy.

"Oh, Mr. Kessler—"

His tongue licked me open, flat and hot, then circled my clit until my thighs shook around his head. I grabbed the edge of the desk. My hips moved on their own.

"That's it," he growled against me. "Fuck, you taste good."

He sucked my clit and slid one finger inside me. I cried out and he held me down with his other hand on my stomach.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were shining. He glanced at the desk beneath me and laughed. A low, wrecked laugh.

"You soaked my contracts, Maeve."

I wanted to die. I wanted him to do it again.

He stood and unbuckled his belt. His pants dropped.

His cock sprang free, thick and hard and so much bigger than I'd imagined anything could be.

I swallowed.

"Ronan, wait, I've never—"

He pushed inside me.

I screamed his name. It stretched and burned and filled me so deep I couldn't think. He stilled, his mouth on my neck, kissing the spot under my ear.

"Fuck. Maeve. Breathe for me."

I breathed. He started to move, slow and then not slow at all. The desk rocked. The pain melted into something hotter, sharper, that made me dig my nails into his back.

"Wait, Mr. Kessler, I—"

"Just call me Ronan," he wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted me off the desk, still buried inside me. He carried me down the dark hallway, every step pushing him deeper, and kicked the bedroom door open.

The sheets were cold against my back. He was so hot above me.

He fucked me until I lost count of how many times I came. Until my voice was gone. Until the edges of the room went soft and dim.

The last thing I felt was his hand stroking my hair.

The last thing I thought was:

*I only came in to give a report.*

*How did this happen?*

Then everything went black.

And somewhere down the hall, Theo's drawing of the three of us was still folded inside my notebook. Sitting open on his father's desk.