Release; The Boy Who Loved Wicked
The Boy Who Loved Wicked
By C.P. Harris
“The madness of love is the greatest of heaven’s blessings.”
-Plato
Day 1 of senior year at Denwin High was not supposed to end with my thoughts consumed by the new AP Philosophy teacher. I’d impatiently waited three years to take the course, but from the moment he strode in with his sad eyes that mirrored my own, I was intrigued by only him.
Dr. Sebastian Wicked.
Intrigue turned into obsession, and common interests set the stage for a tentative friendship with the enigmatic man. In time, every line put in place became blurred as what we shared sparked the flames of a forbidden affair. An affair that should've never been, a wrong that the universe sought to right.
There was only one possible outcome—we were both going to burn. Would our love rise up from the ashes? Or would it smolder in the ruins?
My name is Phoenix Michaelson, and I am The Boy Who Loved Wicked.
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Release Blitz Excerpt:
“You’re worth the risk, Phoenix.” I said another silent prayer, swallowing around the dread lodged in my airway, and quelled the thoughts that said we needed to stop this now.
“I am?”
“You awakened something in me that first day with your passion and willingness to challenge me. In all my years of teaching, there’s never been a student that came to me not seeking knowledge but to exchange information and ideas. I’d become complacent, jaded even. You forced me to stand up straight and call on all the parts of my brain I no longer used.” My life before Phoenix mocked me now, tickling the back of my neck, calling me home. I refused to turn at the sound of its voice, and I smacked my nape as if ridding myself of a buzzing fly.
“I’d been preparing all my life for it,” he said. “It’s the one area I’m completely confident in. I’m the most comfortable in my skin during your class.” He squeezed my straining biceps. “And here, like this.”
“‘How many are the things a man can do without.’” I situated our cocks and began a slow frot.
“Socrates.” His breath stuttered in his lungs, and his fingers dug in hard enough to leave marks.
“You are not one of those things, Phoenix.” I kissed the corner of his eye, my lips soaking up the moisture that slipped from it. I bore my weight down on him, clutching him to me, inhaling from the spot behind his ear, wishing I could swallow him whole.
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