The Challenge

Professor's BratBlurb:

Don’t be late. I have only this night. Come and prove what you can… or spend the rest of your life wondering what it could have been. Your choice.

She was a lonely, overworked and intense computer programmer. She’d spend her days absorbed by work and intellectual challenges. Her nights were filled with painful longing, kinky dreams, and masturbation.


He was an authoritative businessman with a conservative facade, boring marriage and maddening desires no partner could satisfy. The occasional stumbling in a willing woman’s bed was no relief for his needs. Until he met his match.

One unexpected encounter, one small exchanged glance would change it all. The game was on from the moment she accepted his challenge.

They have only one night together, one night to make all their fantasies come true and they have to make the most out of each available second. During that dirty night, nothing will be off the table for those unlikely partners in crime.

This is not romance. It’s a tale of lust and all those shameful desires that keep you up in the middle of the night. Would one night be enough and how much will their lust cost them?
WARNING: The story contains sexual situations and is intended for mature audience. All the characters are over 18 years old. For more information look at the warning section at the beginning of the book.

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We stay silent, drinking in the sight of the other person. My lips open slightly, my eyes glow with lust. You rub your fingers on the edge of the glass and your expression is impenetrable. I look a little deeper, sensing your hunger, the passion that slowly comes back to life, judging by your irregular breathing.

None of us feels the need to fill the silence with words. Shouldn’t interactions, dates, encounters be all about that? Words, words, words. Talking. Even when you don’t know what to say. I know I can tell you a lot. I can talk endlessly and still run out of time. But it’s the first time I feel truly that comfortable around someone… so comfortable I don’t even need to speak.

Words are irrelevant. I feel that you think the same way so I don’t bother to strike a conversation. I spread my legs slightly, letting you sense the heat of my body, the glistening wet pussy lips. I slide my leg next to yours and pull away quickly. Your dark eyes gradually become more intense, filled with passion and undisclosed emotions. I look down at your hands on the table and notice you didn’t take off your ring. My smile grows wider. I like it when a man doesn’t try to fool me or lull me in a state of a secure illusion.

I’m intoxicated. You reach out and put a hand on my knee under the table, your fingers slip along my thigh. I take off my high heel and put my foot very casually between your legs, your cock rigid and hard against the fabric.

It’s surreal. None of us really cares we’re in public place, we don’t even notice people’s disapproving eyes. Your fingers brush over my bare pussy and a shiver runs through them. Something snaps in your gaze. I smirk at you and nod to the street while my toes run over your erection.

We get up together, leaving the place, and go down the narrow street. I walk ahead of you, leading and swaying my hips. I don’t need to turn back to check if you’re following me. Your hungry eyes burn a hole through my back.

We take a turn in a side street, dark and out of everyone’s sight. In the moment, we hide away from the world your smooth, calm personality fades away and clears the road for your dominant, almost violent, lustful side.

You grab me by the shoulders and press me hard against the wall. I reach out and kiss you with fever, biting on your tongue, thrusting mine inside your mouth, overwhelmed by your taste. My brain still can’t accept that just a few hours ago I was pining for you and now I actually have you between my thighs and lips. You pull up the hem of my dress and run your hands on my thighs and lace stockings, rubbing your fingertips over my skin through the thin fabric. I moan softly, tilting my head back as your warm, feverish lips run down my neck, sucking, biting, your teeth sink mercilessly in my tender skin.

Your hands circle around my inner thigh, exploring every inch of skin as you lick and kiss the aroused flesh of my neck and move your head down to my cleavage, out of control, hungry for my taste. I move my hips so I can increase the sensation of your hands. Then you reach behind my back to pull my dress down, my satin-clad breasts spring out of it in your face.

Your fingertips linger over my clit as you look at my hazy, blurred eyes, mad with desire.

“Beg me.”

You voice is low, soft yet powerful. These are the first words I have heard you speak.

“Please…” I run my fingers through your hair, my knees trembling. I can’t make a move. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want, dirty girl.” The fingers rub my slit mercilessly, the juice flow on your skin as you give me a sensual, wicked smile. “Be as filthy as you can. No one is watching.”


“Lilah E. Noir beguiles her readers by slowly, intently, and evocatively removing every layer of pretensions, along with pieces of clothing off her sexy main characters, in this intense office romance, which begins with a sultry stare down, a wink, and an anonymous message to meet for one night. Noir writes confidently and seductively, using a beautiful, enticing rhythm, drawing the reader deeper into the sultry wildness of the affair. Grab this fantastic short story if you’re a fan of smart erotica!”

Naya Free,

author of Leone Nor: Five Girls

“Be as filthy as you can. No one is watching,” Noir’s dominant male coaxes. I think I’ll take that advice. Lustful taboo pleasure never felt so right. And felt is exactly what Noir makes the reader do—feel every emotion, every touch, every nuance as if we are in fact the characters themselves. Her imagery and her words are beautifully painted into a very short scene of passion through careful strokes.”

R.B. O’Brien,

author of Thorne, Natalie’s Edge and Imogen