The Teacher's Supernova Trap - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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This woman was completely unhinged.
Her face burned scarlet, her quick breaths sending waves of heat between us.
I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter, powerless against her. But I wasn't about to surrender without a fight. Swallowing the fire in my veins, I pushed her back.
"Who the hell are you?" My voice was rough, desperate. "Why were you spying on me? Do you know Sophia Valentine or not?" My eyes darted to her shoulder bag on the nightstand.
Ignoring her protests, I snatched it, digging out her ID.
Isabella Roland.
It was her. The photo matched perfectly—but the name wasn't Sophia.
False alarm.
Just a woman who looked exactly like my high school homeroom teacher. Humiliation seared through me. I'd been played.
I shoved the ID back and turned to face her again.
She stood there in nothing but a white button-down, sheer black stockings hugging her long legs.
I'd spent the whole ride here planning how to outsmart her, how to force the truth out of her.
But now, with her smoldering gaze locked on me, my mind went blank.
I couldn't lie—she was intoxicating. Every glance, every smirk sent my pulse into overdrive.
Like a warm bed on a freezing night, she pulled me in, daring me to lose myself in her.
Desire drowned out reason. My body moved on its own, driven by raw need.
Noticing my hunger, she smirked, fingers trailing up to her chest, undoing each button with agonizing slowness.
"Sweetheart," she purred, tongue flicking over her lips as she backed me toward the bed, her hands working at my belt.
This time, I was the one beneath her as she peeled away my clothes, teasing every inch of skin.
I was already burning for her. The slow torture was unbearable. With a growl, I flipped us, stripping her bare in seconds.
The room filled with gasps and tangled limbs. Just like that first night, we left chaos in our wake.
By the time we finished, the sunset painted the walls gold. I held her naked against me, both of us spent.
My breathing steadied as exhaustion pulled me under—until sharp pain jolted me awake.
She'd bitten my shoulder. Hard.
Gritting my teeth, I glared at her. Any drowsiness vanished.
Then her sultry whisper curled around me: "Did I please you, master? Will you be my slave now? I'll serve you like this every day."
Slave again? This girl had some serious kinks.
Too satisfied to argue, I pulled her close with a lazy chuckle. "Whatever you say."
If this was the price for heaven, I'd worship her as my goddess.
Now I got it—she wasn't cruel. Just delightfully twisted, obsessed with making me hers.
Slave or lover, what did it matter? Either way, I'd spoil her rotten.
With sleep ruined, I held her against me.
Suddenly, she lifted her head, eyes sharp. "Who's Sophia Valentine?"
I exhaled. Honesty was easiest. "My high school homeroom teacher. Your exact double."
Isabella studied me, then burst out laughing. "Ethan Lawrence, did you have a crush on your teacher?"
I met her gaze. "Yeah. When I saw you on that livestream and sent ten Supernova Gifts, it was because of her."
She tightened her arms around me. "She must've been kind to you."
"The opposite." My jaw clenched. "We only ever talked about schoolwork. She never even knew how I felt."
"Before coming here, I went to Brookfield High looking for her. Found out she jumped off a building six years ago. Three bastards from my class tried to assault her. She chose death over..." My voice cracked.
Isabella's expression darkened. "Those rapists—did they pay for what they did? Monsters like that deserve life in prison."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "They're still free. I want justice for her, but after all this time... I don't know how."
"Simple." She straddled me, eyes blazing. "We give them a taste of their own medicine."
I blinked. "You're... more invested than I expected. Explain."
Leaning in, she laid out her plan: "Dylan Macmillian, Tyler Evans, Brandon Lopez—they're predators. So we bait them. Set a trap with irrefutable evidence. Even if they dodge death row, prison will ruin them and their families."
I turned the idea over, then nodded slowly.
She wasn't wrong. Lust was their weakness—and our weapon.
Three days later, we set the trap in motion.
Her face burned scarlet, her quick breaths sending waves of heat between us.
I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter, powerless against her. But I wasn't about to surrender without a fight. Swallowing the fire in my veins, I pushed her back.
"Who the hell are you?" My voice was rough, desperate. "Why were you spying on me? Do you know Sophia Valentine or not?" My eyes darted to her shoulder bag on the nightstand.
Ignoring her protests, I snatched it, digging out her ID.
Isabella Roland.
It was her. The photo matched perfectly—but the name wasn't Sophia.
False alarm.
Just a woman who looked exactly like my high school homeroom teacher. Humiliation seared through me. I'd been played.
I shoved the ID back and turned to face her again.
She stood there in nothing but a white button-down, sheer black stockings hugging her long legs.
I'd spent the whole ride here planning how to outsmart her, how to force the truth out of her.
But now, with her smoldering gaze locked on me, my mind went blank.
I couldn't lie—she was intoxicating. Every glance, every smirk sent my pulse into overdrive.
Like a warm bed on a freezing night, she pulled me in, daring me to lose myself in her.
Desire drowned out reason. My body moved on its own, driven by raw need.
Noticing my hunger, she smirked, fingers trailing up to her chest, undoing each button with agonizing slowness.
"Sweetheart," she purred, tongue flicking over her lips as she backed me toward the bed, her hands working at my belt.
This time, I was the one beneath her as she peeled away my clothes, teasing every inch of skin.
I was already burning for her. The slow torture was unbearable. With a growl, I flipped us, stripping her bare in seconds.
The room filled with gasps and tangled limbs. Just like that first night, we left chaos in our wake.
By the time we finished, the sunset painted the walls gold. I held her naked against me, both of us spent.
My breathing steadied as exhaustion pulled me under—until sharp pain jolted me awake.
She'd bitten my shoulder. Hard.
Gritting my teeth, I glared at her. Any drowsiness vanished.
Then her sultry whisper curled around me: "Did I please you, master? Will you be my slave now? I'll serve you like this every day."
Slave again? This girl had some serious kinks.
Too satisfied to argue, I pulled her close with a lazy chuckle. "Whatever you say."
If this was the price for heaven, I'd worship her as my goddess.
Now I got it—she wasn't cruel. Just delightfully twisted, obsessed with making me hers.
Slave or lover, what did it matter? Either way, I'd spoil her rotten.
With sleep ruined, I held her against me.
Suddenly, she lifted her head, eyes sharp. "Who's Sophia Valentine?"
I exhaled. Honesty was easiest. "My high school homeroom teacher. Your exact double."
Isabella studied me, then burst out laughing. "Ethan Lawrence, did you have a crush on your teacher?"
I met her gaze. "Yeah. When I saw you on that livestream and sent ten Supernova Gifts, it was because of her."
She tightened her arms around me. "She must've been kind to you."
"The opposite." My jaw clenched. "We only ever talked about schoolwork. She never even knew how I felt."
"Before coming here, I went to Brookfield High looking for her. Found out she jumped off a building six years ago. Three bastards from my class tried to assault her. She chose death over..." My voice cracked.
Isabella's expression darkened. "Those rapists—did they pay for what they did? Monsters like that deserve life in prison."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "They're still free. I want justice for her, but after all this time... I don't know how."
"Simple." She straddled me, eyes blazing. "We give them a taste of their own medicine."
I blinked. "You're... more invested than I expected. Explain."
Leaning in, she laid out her plan: "Dylan Macmillian, Tyler Evans, Brandon Lopez—they're predators. So we bait them. Set a trap with irrefutable evidence. Even if they dodge death row, prison will ruin them and their families."
I turned the idea over, then nodded slowly.
She wasn't wrong. Lust was their weakness—and our weapon.
Three days later, we set the trap in motion.
End of The Teacher's Supernova Trap Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to The Teacher's Supernova Trap book page.