Russian Teacher (Yes, Daddy Book 6) Read online

  I’m possessive and jealous when it comes to her, shooting icy death looks at the other boys who used to sit at the front of the class. Not anymore. Hell, a couple of them picked up their books and moved to the back of the classroom within ten minutes into the class, and another couple went to the administration office and withdrew entirely, taking up HomeEc or some other unmanly pursuit.

  I wear it like a badge of pride. In my country you’re either a man or you’re not, regardless of your age, and these boys showed their true colors real quick once they saw me bare my teeth and my eyes narrow in their direction. They wisely went running for the hills.

  And speaking of hills, what the hell is that bra she’s got on today? Or at least I’m assuming it’s her bra as her chest is sticking out underneath her jacket more than it ever has before, causing me to stick one hand in my lap and try to unsuccessfully adjust myself when I’d much rather be fisting my cock just before shoving it deep inside her.

  “Uh hum,” the oversight committee woman, whose name I can’t remember and don’t care about anyway, clears her throat. “Shall we begin? I need to leave at the exact time this evening and we’re already a minute into Ms. Andrews’s allotted time.”

  I take a second to gather myself, my gaze raking over Alexa as she approaches the single seat in front of the table where I’m sitting. I want to grab that table by the edge, toss it up and to the side of the room removing anything in-between us and mount her right here and now.

  The question is, does she want that too? Something tells me she does, that not only does she want it but she needs it just like I do. She’s so damn young, just eighteen, but I know her hormones are in full overdrive…but nothing compared to mine.

  You would think a former Russian mafia hitman would be able to calm his mind and his body in times of heightened stress. It’s why hitmen make the money they do in the first place, their ability to stay calm despite circumstances and take down their targets. But Alexa is different, so different. I’m not here to take her down, I’m here to take her out…of the population of single women in this country and make her mine before she even leaves high school. To commit to her in front of the world and make her my princess, and then make her my queen.

  I exhale hard. Focus, Alexander. Focus. “If you’re ready we can begin,” I say.

  She nods, but her body language gives her away. Her hands tug at the end of her white jersey dress, pulling it down past her knees as her top teeth bite the corner of her bottom lip, causing me to nearly lose it right here and now.

  The oversight committee woman goes over some rules, during which I have to take a drink of water at least three times and loosen my collar twice. I feel like I’ve been chewing on cotton, my mouth dry as a bone.

  “Please recite the Cyrillic alphabet for me…Alexa,” I say, damn near slipping and calling her angel.

  She begins and I just stare at her mouth as the tiny oval moves in rhythm as I imagine those bee-stung lips wrapped around my cock.

  “Mr. Smith,” Ms. Johnson, the oversight committee woman whose name or presence only annoys me, says. “Next question?”

  I turn and look at this Johnson lady whose palms are skyward and then look back at Alexa who’s no longer speaking.

  “Correct,” I say, not having heard a single word of what Alexa said. “Moving on. Please, in Russian, tell me the brief history of Moscow as per Chapter fifteen in the textbook you studied this semester. Please remember to highlight the underlined portions of the textbook in your summary.”

  Before she can begin, Alexa’s arms bend at the wrist and her tiny little hands grab the top of her jacket, unzipping it before pushing her chest forward as she slides one arm and then the other out of her windbreaker and hangs it on the back of her desk.

  It’s clear now that the windbreaker had some sort of padding, or air trapped underneath it that caused it to bulge, and now that she’s removed it only her white dress remains, and despite the horrible lighting in this room I can clearly see that the top is damn near transparent, Alexa’s pert nipples trying to cut through the fabric of her well-worn dress.

  Those little bee-stings she has for breasts are so damn perfect, so small and girlish, just like her.

  Ms. Johnson fidgets in her seat and sighs at the sight of Alexa, and I feel the oversight committee woman’s arm brush against mine, trying to get my attention. “One second please,” she says, holding up a finger to Alexa before whispering in my ear. “I don’t think that’s appropriate under the dress code of the school.”

  In this case I have to agree. I want to grab that jacket and cover my little girl up so no one can ever see her so revealed like this again, not even another woman. That body is mine and only my eyes should ever see what I’m seeing now. But this isn’t the time to teach her obedience. That will come later.

  “She needs to dress like a proper young woman…like me,” Ms. Johnson says, her breasts pressing against the side of my arm and it’s only then that I realize what she’s doing as she’s damn near crawling up into my lap like a cat. Is this woman crazy? Can she not see the reaction I’m having to Alexa, and not her? I have no interest in any woman other than Alexa, and I’ve never shown any interest in anyone this entire time. “Speaking of clothes,” she says, “this blouse is a bit tight.” She unbuttons another button, likely exposing more of her cleavage but I wouldn’t know. I don’t even consider looking. Zero interest in anyone other than the young girl sitting in front of me.

  “You mentioned you need to leave on time, Ms. Johnson. Let’s continue so you can get out of here as scheduled.”

  “I just said that in case you wanted to get a drink after. I know a—“

  “No,” I growl, turning back to Alexa. “You were saying?”

  “Yes, teacher,” she begins causing my cock to jerk and then she slides right into reciting what amounts to a Wikipedia page of information about Moscow, in nearly flawless Russian, and to me it sounds like an angel singing while playing the harp.

  And an angel is what I need right now because these thoughts I’m having are going to send me straight to hell. The debaucherous ways I want to taint this sacrificial virgin perfection, and I can definitely see no way that she’s not a virgin.

  The thought that I’ll be the only man to ever touch her causes my nostrils to flare and I bare my teeth.

  “You pass,” I blurt out.

  Ms. Johnson gasps. “You’re really ready to get out of here tiger, aren’t you?” she purrs.

  “Take. Your. Hand. Off. Of. Me.” I order, and Ms. Johnson reluctantly does.

  “Fine,” she hisses, before grabbing her things and storming out of the examination room.

  “Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Alexa adds quickly, filling the silence in the room with her melodious voice. “I studied very hard and passing this means a lot to me.”

  “You, I mean this, means a lot to me too,” I confess.

  She swallows hard. “There were some other parts of the oral exam that I prepared for that I was hoping to get a chance to show-off.”

  My eyes dart up to the clock, realizing we only have a few more minutes of time in this room before the janitor comes in to clean and get it prepared for more testing this evening.

  “I’m afraid we’re out of time, angel…unless you’d like to join me in my office for an extension of your oral exam.”

  “I feel like I can comprehend everything that I need, but I really need more help with the oral portion of learning Russian. More than just memorization for a test.”

  I’m ready to memorize every inch of her body.

  Wasting no time, I jump out of my seat so quickly the chair flies backward and lands half-way across the room. I grab my things and move quickly toward her, taking her tiny little elbow in my hand for the first time and lifting her from her chair and holding her jacket out in reverse fashion, so the back of her jacket will be worn on her front. No way am I allowing anyone else to see this revealing dress on what belongs to me.

  Her
legs are wobbly as I lead her to the door, and I pull her in close, tucking her into my hip.

  She’s not the only one having trouble walking, my pants acting as a damn near Medieval torture device, and I have to practically side step, my erection being restrained so aggressively I know my dick’s going to be red from the chafing of my underwear and trousers by the time we get to my office.

  And it’s going to be even redder when I ram it deep into her tight little cunt as she writhes on the sheets on my bed, trying to accept my fat cock.

  Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me, or is her innocence all an act?

  As I continue my unorthodox walk through the hall Alexa catches on, and I see the movement of the top of her head as it dips sideways and down, and she notices exactly what she’s done to me.

  Her eyes dart from my thighs up to my eyes and her pupils dilate as shock covers her face. “Are you ok, teacher?”

  I grunt something incomprehensible.

  “Are you as excited as I am about me passing your oral exam?”

  Oh, little one, the real oral exam is about to begin. You. Have. No. Idea.

  “I’m excited to continue this oral instruction,” I smirk.

  “Good, because my mom says I’m not good at your class and said I was going to fail.”

  “You were never going to fail, no matter what. You’ve got your whole life in front of you and I’m here to help guide you along the way.”

  “Like a guidance counselor?”

  “Much more than that, little one.”

  “Good, because I still want more instruction from you.” Her eyelids flutter. “I want you to help me with my oral and tell me how I’m doing, and not only that but to guide me in…other things.”

  “What other things?” I swallow hard.

  “All other things, especially the parts of life that are,” her gaze drifts back down to my waistline. “Hard.”

  Fuck me.

  This girl is innocent as the day she was born but she’s willing and eager to learn, and she wants me to be her teacher in all facets of life. She’s staring down at my cock like it’s in trouble, and is it ever because I don’t know if I can make it to my office before I explode. My little girl is horny as hell for me. Me and only me, and she knows it’s time for me to make her mine.

  I think back to my decision to come to this town time has forgotten, thinking about how randomly I’d picked it and how it was my intention to just hide out here and not do anything with anyone, violent or otherwise.

  The violence part was easy, but the other part has been beyond difficult with Alexa right under my nose all semester. Russia is famous for its women, but for some reason they never did it for me. I was always just too focused on being perfect at my job, and even when women tried to tempt me there was just something about them that never really lit a fuse underneath me, and I never participated in fulfilling their wants and needs. There was always the case that the women were sent in my direction as a honeypot trap, but that wasn’t it. I wasn’t scared of anyone trying to kill me or set me up for a kill. I’m the best at that and can sniff it out a mile away. I was just never into it, into them, and I don’t do things for pure pleasure. My life is calculated, precise, and I don’t deviate from my plans…until I decided to come here, until her.

  She’s changed me as a man, showed me what it’s like to really live and as corny as it sounds to say it…to love. My life has always been about tearing down, destruction, causing heartache. Now I want to build and cause joy, with her. And that starts with putting my seed inside her and building a family. Together.

  I grit my teeth from the pain in my midsection.

  “Are you annoyed by me?” she asks, incorrectly interpreting my reaction to everything that’s happening.

  “I’m annoyed by myself, that we didn’t have this talk earlier,” I admit, realizing I wasted an entire semester when I could have already had a baby in her belly by now.

  As we approach my office I catch glimpses of other teachers, who shoot me evil eyes and suspicious looks as they mumble under their breath. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I need my girl alone, with me, somewhere where no one else can bother us.

  And I need to get my hands on her, or better yet her lips wrapped around my cock.

  Being seen by so many other teachers is dangerous, and I’m sure I’ll be asked about this later by the principal. It doesn’t matter. This whole job was a cover in the first place. Although I’ve come to enjoy it, I’d give it up a billion times over if it meant I could have one minute with her.

  I grab the handle and drop my shoulder into the door, causing it to slam against the wall. With my heart hammering in my chest and my mind racing, I grab Alexa by the waist and lift her up onto my desk, kicking the door shut behind us while I pull off that windbreaker, revealing those perfect little tits, but this time for my eyes only.

  Her hands dart across her chest as she tries to cover herself. “Teacher, are you…learning something about yourself today too?”

  “Oh, I learned the first day you entered my class, Alexa,” I confess once and for all, grabbing her chin and lifting it so she can stare right into my eyes and see just how sincere and genuine my words are. “I learned what it really means to put someone above yourself,” I continue, moving in even closer until our bodies are pressed together and our lips are a hair's breadth away. “What it means to take care of someone in all ways. To be their…Daddy.”

  Her eyes are as big as saucers as she bats those half-moon eyelashes at me like I’m her hero. That is a look that every man needs to experience in his lifetime, but never from my girl. That’s for me and only me.

  “Is that why that long, hard thing in your pants is pressing against me? You want to take care of me, like a daddy would?”

  I nod. “Yes. That’s it exactly. Making you happy makes me happy.”

  “Is that why you passed me during the exam today?”

  “I passed you because you deserved it. I couldn’t fudge your other exams because they were multiple choice and electronically graded and recorded, and I’m being watched in that classroom at all times by the cameras. I knew if you just stayed in my class, didn’t withdraw, until the end, I’d make sure you got through with a passing grade.”

  “I want to see what kind of grade you’d give me for other things I want to learn,” she whispers, licking her lips.

  My cock jerks, but this time I feel one thimble full of release fill my briefs, the tip of my dick sticky and wet. “What kind of things did you have in mind, princess?”

  And a princess is exactly how she looks in her white dress, little flat shoes, and her tiny body. All she needs is a tiara for the look to be complete. But I will do better. I’m going to put a ring on her finger and make her my queen.

  “I like it when you call me that?”

  “Princess?”

  She nods.

  “There’s something I need you to call me?” comes out of me from deep within my chest.

  “What? Anything, teacher.”

  I lean in that last little bit, my forehead finding hers as my hand engulfs her shoulder, finding the strap of her dress and sliding it down her porcelain arm, her nipples damn near all the way through the fabric at this point, her need as evident as mine. “Daddy.”

  Her entire body clenches in my grasp and I have to stop her from shaking, which I do by claiming her mouth with a hard, unrelenting kiss.

  She leans into it, and my aggressive mouth turns softer, as I cherish the first time our lips meet, wanting this moment to last forever. My hand snakes into her golden locks and I gently apply pressure to the back of her head, pushing her kiss even more into mine as our mouths devour each other.

  Her lips taste so sweet and the shot of adrenaline she gives me shoots through every nerve and artery in my being. I feel like I’ve stuck my finger in an electric socket, and I don’t ever want to pull it out.

  My kiss turns hungry again, and my dick needy causing my hands
to slide under her ass and lift her from the desk, flattening her back against the wall as our faces fuck with reckless abandon.

  “You wore this dress just to bring out the beast in me, didn’t you?” I grumble in-between devouring her lips.

  She nods into my face and I thrust my thighs forward so she can feel just what she’s doing to me. “You had this all planned out, didn’t you naughty girl?”

  “Yes,” she whimpers and I set her feet down on the floor.

  “What else did you have in mind for this moment?”

  “This,” she says, dropping to her knees in one fell swoop, her oh so small hands grabbing my belt buckle and yanking it open before pulling it through the loops. Recklessly, she jerks my zipper down and I have to flex my ass back to avoid her getting my cock caught in the mayhem and potentially ripping it off.

  In one motion she yanks down my pants, exposing the tattoos on my thighs. “What are…?” she freezes.

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” I say, as she realizes these aren’t the lame tribal tattoos or slogans most boys her age get tatted on their bodies. These are the mark of the Bratva, the Russian mafia which raised me as a child. These tattoos are not bought or given, they are earned. And if one gets caught getting tattoos they don’t deserve, haven’t properly earned, then those tattoos mean death with dishonor. And a slow death at that.

  “Is that what you think about me too?”

  “Why don’t you show me, my little angel. Show me if there’s a bit of the devil inside you.”

  “The only thing inside me is you, teacher,” she says, spitting on the crown of my cock before her face lurches forward and half the fucker disappears into her throat.

  I feel the tip hit her esophagus and grab her hair, pulling her head back so I don’t blow immediately.

  “Don’t you like it?” she gurgles on my dick, yet careful not to drag her teeth. “Aren’t I naughty enough?”

  “Oh, you’re naughty,” I breathe out hard.