I Wish I Would’ve Chosen You Read Online Whitney G

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, Insta-Love, Taboo Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
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“I promised to help you and I’m a man of my word,” he says, sipping his coffee. “Your essays have gotten better with every emailed redraft.”

“I don’t give a fuck about these essays.” I push the folders to the floor. “And I know you don’t either.”

He leans back, glaring at me. “Pick that shit up.”

“No.” I stand up from the table. “I’ve had enough of this. Just tell me you don’t want me.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you that recently.”

“I want you to say that I’m reading too much into you liking me, and I’ll go home. Then you need to promise to sign off on a class transfer for me.”

“Miss Edwards—”

“Just say the goddamn words.” My voice cracks. “I need to hear you say them.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“How about you watch me leave?” I grab my purse and rush to the door.

Before I can walk out, he shuts the door and spins me around. Then he cups my face in his hands.

“I don’t want you, Genevieve.” He looks deep into my eyes. “I really fucking don’t.”

“Okay.” Tears prick my eyes. “Thank you for finally being—”

“I need you.” He interrupts me with a kiss. “I fucking need you….”

He rubs his palms against my sides, and I arch my back, wanting, yearning for him to finally give me a bit more of him.

He kneels and pushes up my skirt.

Pressing his hands against my thighs and planting kisses against my skin. He yanks off my panties in one smooth motion and throws them to the floor.

“You’ll need to be quiet while we’re in here,” he whispers. “Try not to scream while I’m fucking you…”

Without warning, he buries his head between my thighs and slides his tongue against my clit, introducing me to a whole new pleasure, sending every nerve in my body to the edge.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says arousing me even more with his words. “So fucking good…”

“Oh god…” I writhe as he continues his relentless kisses, tasting and teasing me with his tongue.

I've never had anyone go down on me before, but I know from the way my body I know that no one will ever be able to compare to this.

I come harder than ever, slipping down against the wall, but he doesn’t let me catch my breath.

Instead, he stands over me and unwraps a condom. He picks me up as if I weigh nothing and slides into me, making me take his length all at once, punishing me with a fast and hectic rhythm.

“Fuck…”

I have to grab onto the shelf to steady my body, and he covers my mouth with his hand before I scream his name.

“I told you to stay quiet…” he whispers, fucking me harder. “Stay fucking quiet.”

Within minutes, I feel another orgasm building and building, and I and lose control as the pleasure radiates through my entire body.

My stomach tightens and I dig my nails into his arms.

After I recover, he stands up and steadies my body against the bookcase.

In silence, we stare at each other, waiting for the braver person to speak first.

“I miss talking to you at night.” I speak before he can. “I’m sure it’s probably mindless blabbering about topics you’ve studied long ago for you, but it means a lot to me. So, trust me, if you never touch me again, I’ll understand that. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand.”

“But if you stop talking to me, just about all the things we have in common, yanking away your friendship because you think I’m vengeful enough to burn bridges with the only friend I’ve ever had…” My voice cracks. “I won’t understand that at all.”

He stares at me, his face expressionless.

“I know what I did with the confessions essay was immature,” I say. “But I couldn’t think of any other way to get your attention, and I’m not sorry. I just wanted you to talk to me.”

He hasn’t even blinked.

“Are you planning to say something, Mr. Donovan?”

“It’s Liam,” he says, picking up my panties and stuffing them into his pocket. “Call me 'Liam' whenever we’re not in class.”

“Does that mean you’re done denying me?”

“It means I’ll call you tonight.”

9

LIAM

Late December

“Let me explain what I meant when I said, the ‘greatest admissions essay of all time.’” Charlotte Vaughn is holding me hostage in my office. “I want endless paragraphs about how amazing my persuasive skills are, sentences so damn eloquent and breathtaking that the admissions office has to mark ‘Yes’ on my application before they reach the end of them.”

“Miss Vaughn, I’ve told you—”

“I want you to paint a picture of the perfect student, someone who makes you feel like you’re blessed to teach in their presence…”

I lean back in my chair as she continues to berate me.

Unfortunately, her father did call my grandfather about this, but I’m putting it off for as long as possible. Miss Vaughn is a C plus student at best, and I feel like I’d be setting her up to fail if I wrote too many glowing words.


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