Educating Emma is on tour

Hey, book buddies. Remember EDUCATING EMMA, by Kat Austen? I told you about it last Sunday. Well, this week it's on tour, so let me remind you why I like it ;o)

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Emma’s had it bad for Professor Faraday all semester. Despite her best efforts, Luke Faraday seems immune to the brilliant blonde who sits enthralled in his lecture hall every day.

When Emma decides to confront her enigmatic professor and confess her feelings, Luke has a confession of his own to make. Will his confession send her running? Or will it send her running straight into his arms?

Either way, Emma’s about to get more of an education than she bargained for.

***This is a Dark Fantasies Novella, fantasy being the key word. 

Get lost in the story, hold off jumping to conclusions, and brace yourself for the sweet surprise waiting at the end.***

Hot filling. Beware! Do not touch unless in the mood for kinky stuff and sweet overload.

I'm still in awe of this novella. I wasn't sure what to expect beyond the obvious naughty student/professor scenario. I'm happily surprised and satisfied because it's well written, sexy and romantic too.

The story plays out a fantasy many people have contemplated at least once in their lives. A college professor takes a teasing student in the confines of the classroom. 

The narrative is dripping with dirty talk and filthy fantasies come true. And it dares go further with a twist to the situation that's fun, and with an epilogue that's totally sweet.

I think I've found another smut heroine writer for me. Yay!

ENJOY A HOT, HOT EXCERPT

What am I doing?

           That’s all that keeps repeating through my head. Why didn’t I run? Why didn’t I leave when I had the chance? He was willing to let me escape. Why didn’t I?

           The questions keep storming through my mind, but I know the answer. I’ve wanted Luke Faraday from the first day I saw him. I’ve wanted him, and now that I know he wants me too, I can’t walk away.

           Even though he scared the shit out of me at first with all that domineering and locking of doors, now I know he’s in on my little secret. I’ve been spying on him for weeks now. He was right—I did touch myself in my car, watching him strip, watching him do much worse . . . just thinking about his naked body, his hand shuttling up and down his c*ck in front of the window at night . . . my body responded like he’s actually inside me.

           He knows about my obsession with him . . . but I know about his obsession with me. Going through my medical files at the campus medical building? If it isn’t illegal, it’s grossly unethical. Not to mention his comment about marking my chair with his cum after the first day of class.

           Picturing him doing it, thinking about how I slid into that cum-marked seat the next day makes my nipples harden. He doesn’t miss it. He’s practically gloating, his eyes staring greedily at my tits, knowing what he’s doing to my body. Knowing that despite my best attempts to convince him otherwise, my body is priming itself for him, welcoming him closer, inviting him to take me.

           I eye the door one last time—my body even angles toward it—but then I accept my fate. I’m not leaving. I don’t want to. Whatever dark urges he’s driven by, no matter the insatiability of his appetites, I’m his. I always have been.

           From the time I first entered this room and fell into his web, I’ve been caught. He’ll have to throw me through that door before I leave it.

           My hand moves down my skirt, slips under the hem, and moves up my wet inner thighs.

           He reclines back into his chair, wetting his lips as he watches the show I’m giving him. Now that I’m resolved, my inhibitions are gone. Now that I’ve committed to my fate, I’m driven by my desire for him, unable to think of anything but our bodies joining.

           I slide a little closer to him before touching myself. I’ve gotten to watch him get off a couple of times already—it’s only fair he gets to watch me. He’s got the goddamn front row seat to the show, so I might as well make it a good one.

ABOUT THE MASTERMIND

Kat Austen is the secret pen name of a New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author. Kat writes short and steamy reads that leave hearts (and other parts) satisfied.

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I'm looking forward to her next story :-D

Have a great weekend!

Back to college with the naughty professor

You know I'm a hardcore fan of Alexa Riley's, so now I've found my new extra smut dose :o)

Come and meet KAT AUSTEN!

Emma’s had it bad for Professor Faraday all semester. Despite her best efforts, Luke Faraday seems immune to the brilliant blonde who sits enthralled in his lecture hall every day.

When Emma decides to confront her enigmatic professor and confess her feelings, Luke has a confession of his own to make. Will his confession send her running? Or will it send her running straight into his arms?

Either way, Emma’s about to get more of an education than she bargained for.

***This is a Dark Fantasies Novella, fantasy being the key word.

 Get lost in the story, hold off jumping to conclusions, 

and brace yourself for the sweet surprise waiting at the end.***

Amazon US : http://amzn.to/1tjQZ7x

Amazon UK : http://amzn.to/1UcbHiO

Amazon CA : http://amzn.to/28toRzA

MY OPINION

Hot filling. Beware! Do not touch unless in the mood for kinky stuff and sweet overload.

I'm still in awe of this novella. I wasn't sure what to expect beyond the obvious naughty student/professor scenario. I'm happily surprised and satisfied because it's well written, sexy and romantic too. 

The story plays out a fantasy many people have contemplated at least once in their lives. A college professor takes a teasing student in the confines of the classroom. The narrative is dripping with dirty talk and filthy fantasies come true. And it dares go further with a twist to the situation that's fun, and with an epilogue that's totally sweet.

 I think I've found another smut heroine writer for me. Yay!

READ AN EXCERPT

I roam in front of her, keeping my distance. For now. “I wouldn’t think you had much concern for privacy. Especially since I’ve caught you sitting in your car outside of my house late at night. What were you doing there?”

When her mouth falls open, I almost throw myself on her. That mouth. It will be my undoing, especially if she keeps opening it like that, parting it, gasping. Soon I’ll be drawing moans and screams from it, my obsession with it only growing.

“Were you watching me undress and climb into the shower? Touching yourself as you watched? Is that why you did it? To get yourself off since I wasn’t doing it for you?”

She pushes off the wall a little. “You knew?”

I circle closer. From this distance, I can smell her. From the scent of her shampoo to the scent that resides between her legs, the waiting is killing me. I need her. I have to have her. “Of course I knew. Why do you think I kept the blinds open and jacked off in full view?”

When my hand lowers to my crotch, stroking myself a few times through my slacks, she watches. She likes to watch. That’s why I gave her such a good show the last time.

“It wasn’t for the neighbors’ benefit, poppet.”

Her chest is moving fast, her breathing rushed. Horny little girl. “That was for me?”

I nod. “All of it. All of this has been for you.” Waving around the room, I end with pointing my finger between her and me. “Now it’s time to reward me for my patience and efforts.”

She steps closer and the sound her heel makes stabs the silence. “You’ve been planning this.”

If only she knew . . . she’d run. My obsession for her runs deep. It’s all-consuming. All-encompassing. All-powerful. All . . . everything.

“Ever since the day you walked through that door.” I point at the one she first came in through, the last one I’d locked, sealing her fate. “Now, don’t make me ask again—take off your shirt and let me see those perfect tits I’ve spent months jacking off to.”

Her breathing heavy, she stares at me like she’s trying to figure out an equation. Her eyes skim my body, making multiple visits to what resides below my belt. When they end on my eyes, her fingers move to her shirt.

She slips the next button free, then the next, until there’re no more left to undo. She never breaks eye contact. I don’t think she even blinks. God knows I don’t. I don’t want to miss a thing.

“Off,” I order when the shirt stays draped over her shoulders, hiding those glorious peaks.

Slowly, she pulls one arm free from her shirt. Then the other, until at last, the blouse spills down her back and floats to the floor. Her arms cover herself at first, but all she needs to see is my jaw going rigid before her arms fall back to her sides. She’s learning. Listen . . . or else.

ABOUT THE MASTERMIND

Kat Austen is the secret pen name of a New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author. Kat writes short and steamy reads that leave hearts (and other parts) satisfied.

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