Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
You are reading Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste, Chapter 1: Chapter 1. Read more chapters of Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste.
The car was cramped, but I followed his command without hesitation—arching my back, shifting into one suggestive pose after another while my boyfriend watched.
His gaze scorched my skin as his palm cracked against my backside.
"Dancers really are something else. You can bend any way I want."
My name is Isabella Laurent. Dance major. Campus queen.
I had the face that turned heads, but it was my body that made them stare—full curves, a waist so narrow I could wrap both hands around it, and an ass that left guys restless in their seats.
Too bad I was taken.
But even good girls have needs.
I was hungry—always hungry—and my hormones were relentless. The cruel joke? My boyfriend, Ethan Lowell, couldn't satisfy me if his life depended on it. Every time he got me worked up, he'd tap out right when things got interesting.
Frustration was eating me alive.
So I threw myself into dance, exhausting my body until the ache dulled.
That night, alone in the studio, I stood in front of the mirror—skin slick with sweat, chest heaving, cheeks flushed.
A drop trailed down my neck, sending a shiver through me.
My mind wandered to those filthy scenes from movies.
At my age, with a body like mine—what man wouldn't lose control?
Right then, I wanted nothing more than to be wrecked.
Ethan's text snapped me out of it:
"Done yet, Isabella?"
I'd almost forgotten—tonight was his roommate Dominic Evans' birthday party.
After firing off a reply, I rushed back to my dorm to change.
My roommate, Sophia Granger, was already slipping into a barely-there camisole.
She was coming too—we all ran in the same circle.
Seeing her outfit, something competitive flared inside me.
Not to be outdone, I pulled on a black camisole and a micro-skirt that barely covered anything, my cleavage on full display with every breath.
Sophia's eyes widened. "Jesus, Isabella. Your body is unreal."
I studied myself in the mirror, imagining Ethan's friends staring. The thought alone made my thighs press together.
Sophia smirked, flicking my chest. "Careful. Dominic's crew goes feral for girls built like you. Ethan's gonna lose his mind."
"Shut up," I laughed, though the idea thrilled me more than it should have.
On the way, Sophia filled me in on Dominic.
I didn't know much about him—artsy photographer, but built like a goddamn athlete. Eight-pack abs. A V-line that promised stamina.
"With a body like that, you'd need a week to recover..."
My pulse jumped.
Being his girlfriend would be... intense.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I had Ethan.
So why was I picturing someone else?
His gaze scorched my skin as his palm cracked against my backside.
"Dancers really are something else. You can bend any way I want."
My name is Isabella Laurent. Dance major. Campus queen.
I had the face that turned heads, but it was my body that made them stare—full curves, a waist so narrow I could wrap both hands around it, and an ass that left guys restless in their seats.
Too bad I was taken.
But even good girls have needs.
I was hungry—always hungry—and my hormones were relentless. The cruel joke? My boyfriend, Ethan Lowell, couldn't satisfy me if his life depended on it. Every time he got me worked up, he'd tap out right when things got interesting.
Frustration was eating me alive.
So I threw myself into dance, exhausting my body until the ache dulled.
That night, alone in the studio, I stood in front of the mirror—skin slick with sweat, chest heaving, cheeks flushed.
A drop trailed down my neck, sending a shiver through me.
My mind wandered to those filthy scenes from movies.
At my age, with a body like mine—what man wouldn't lose control?
Right then, I wanted nothing more than to be wrecked.
Ethan's text snapped me out of it:
"Done yet, Isabella?"
I'd almost forgotten—tonight was his roommate Dominic Evans' birthday party.
After firing off a reply, I rushed back to my dorm to change.
My roommate, Sophia Granger, was already slipping into a barely-there camisole.
She was coming too—we all ran in the same circle.
Seeing her outfit, something competitive flared inside me.
Not to be outdone, I pulled on a black camisole and a micro-skirt that barely covered anything, my cleavage on full display with every breath.
Sophia's eyes widened. "Jesus, Isabella. Your body is unreal."
I studied myself in the mirror, imagining Ethan's friends staring. The thought alone made my thighs press together.
Sophia smirked, flicking my chest. "Careful. Dominic's crew goes feral for girls built like you. Ethan's gonna lose his mind."
"Shut up," I laughed, though the idea thrilled me more than it should have.
On the way, Sophia filled me in on Dominic.
I didn't know much about him—artsy photographer, but built like a goddamn athlete. Eight-pack abs. A V-line that promised stamina.
"With a body like that, you'd need a week to recover..."
My pulse jumped.
Being his girlfriend would be... intense.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I had Ethan.
So why was I picturing someone else?
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