I've never been so attracted to anyone in my life, but Miss Swan is the embodiment of forbidden fruit, even if she is eighteen. She's a student, my student.
No matter how much she teases me, I have to resist.
I can't have her.
A/N Here we have it...the EPOV of Teasing Mr. Cullen.
You don't need to have read TMC to be able to read this, but I would encourage you to, as it gives this story an added dimension.
I'm going to say all this at the beginning and then keep my A/N's nice and short for the rest of the chapters :)
Firstly, a huge thank you to Midnight Cougar, for not only pre-reading, but for beta'ing this story for me. Her help and encouragement on this has been invaluable. She's amazing ❤️
To Steph and Pearly - who pre-read this for me and hyped me up massively while I was writing it - you guys motivated me to get this finished and kept me going when I was doubting myself. Thank you so much ladies. Big love to you.
To my sour ladies who got a little sneak peak of chapter one and gave me a big confidence boost in this story - you are all awesome, thank you.
Finally, to every single one of you who read, followed, favorited and reviewed Teasing Mr. Cullen - this story quite literally would not exist without your support. Thank you so much for encouraging me.
This is for all of you.
You always wondered how dirty Mr. Cullen was. You're about to find out.
"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful." — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
"Good morning, Edward." Miss Dash gives me a wide smile, resting one hand on the counter and arching her back so her tits sit high on her chest. Her curly brown hair is in a messy bun on her head, her flowing red skirt such a bright shade of burgundy it's actually quite offensive at this time in the morning.
I nod, staring at the coffee machine behind her wistfully. She's blocking it with her body.
"How are you, today?" she continues, fluttering her eyelashes.
Desperation is seldom attractive, which is a shame, because although she's certainly not my type, Emma is quite a pretty woman.
Unfortunately, for me, there's only one person in this school I'd want underneath me, and it's a complete impossibility.
"Fine," I say in a clipped tone. "You're blocking the coffee machine."
Emma giggles, stepping away and pressing her tits against my arm. They're soft and she's warm, but I'm still far from fucking interested.
I ignore her attempts to talk with me further, giving her short responses instead of asking her questions back. It's rude, but I don't want to entertain her feelings towards me - it makes working with each other far too awkward, and though her current behaviour is annoying, it's preferable to her glaring at me or openly hating my guts for rejecting her.
I enjoy my coffee with my book on a plush red sofa by the window, then stroll to my classroom, settling at my desk to continue reading before class starts.
After ten minutes or so, the students start trickling into the classroom, some smiling at me, others saying hello. I don't acknowledge them. Jessica flits to my desk and places a ruby red apple there, giving me a flirty smile. I stare at her until she leaves.
I have no intention of eating it.
I'm mentally going over what I want to discuss in class today, when Isabella Swan stops in front of my desk.
I have to hide my surprise, curiosity flaring in my gut. Does she have a question about her mark on her last paper? Though an exceptionally intelligent student, Isabella seems to flounder when it comes to her submitted work. It's very frustrating for me, because I can tell she has the ability to work harder, to perform better.
She stares deep into my eyes, placing her dainty hand on the desk, and I feel my lower stomach tighten.
Isabella is a beautiful young woman, long dark hair, mahogany brown eyes, flecked with amber and honey, a delightfully upturned nose that crinkles when she smiles, white teeth flashing between plump, red-bitten lips. Her face is striking, and her body equally so, full, pert breasts, a tiny waist that flares out at her hips, long slender legs.
I have never been so attracted to anyone in my life, but Isabella is the embodiment of forbidden fruit, even if she is eighteen.
She's a student, my student.
And though I have caught her looking at me, and she flutters her eyelashes and flirts sometimes, her behaviour is on par with the other students in my class.
I don't entertain them. I'm hardly a jovial person in general, but my persona in the classroom is a much sterner and colder version of myself. I act this way for several reasons. I love literature, and I want my students to take it seriously—to learn, to excel, which, unequivocally, they do, except perhaps for Isabella. I love teaching too, despite what my students might think, and in my experience, they thrive in a stricter environment, where praise actually means something. I don't want to give out meaningless gold stars. A well done, from me, holds weight; I like that.
The main reason I maintain a facade of indifference is students like Jessica. I know that I'm an attractive man, and I am aware of the way that my students look at me. To entertain their fantasies in any way, would be the end of my career, even if it were just a simple smile. I've seen it happen, to other colleagues. If you're too nice to a student that fancies you, they run a mile with it, make a move on you, thinking that you will want them, then when you reject them, they report you.
My cock stirs as Isabella leans forward, her shirt gaping and revealing the swells of her perky breasts. She picks up the apple, staring at me as she guides it to her mouth, the sound of her teeth breaking the flesh, making something tug in the pit of my stomach. She lowers the fruit and I watch glistening juice drip across her bottom lip, her pink tongue swiping out and licking it up.
"Don't you just love the taste of that sweet juice on your tongue?" she asks in a low voice, staring at me under thick black lashes. All the blood in my body goes straight to my cock, but I don't let myself react.
"Not particularly," I say sternly. "Sit down, please, Miss Swan."
She places the apple down and smirks at me. "Yes, sir."
My cock twitches as she saunters away, my eyes trained on her tight little arse. I force my gaze away and swallow as I see the apple sitting on the desk, imprinted with her teeth.
What the fuck is she trying to do to me?
Can't wait to hear what you're thinking. Updates will be every Tuesday and Saturday until it completes and there are seven chapters ❤️
See you on Saturday, loves.