Page 15

Chapter

Twelve

Bloom

The Devil’s Student

P rofessor Ravencrux lounged against the podium, all coiled power—the cut of his shirt straining over that warrior’s chest, his slacks hugging thighs that could probably break empires. This man, who radiated violence, commanded shadows and death power.

Our gazes clashed, mine defiant and his heated, as if I were his obsession or next sacrifice.

His carnal mouth, the one that had undone me with wicked pleasure, quirked at the corner. I remembered exactly how it felt dragging up my inner thigh, how it could ruin me with a single command.

No relationships between professors and students.

The rule screamed in my skull. Too late. Shit! I’d shattered it before I’d even stepped foot in a classroom.

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, scrambling for defenses.Technically,he hadn’t fucked me—no penetration, just his devilish tongue working me open until I screamed. Not that semantics would save me if I was hauled to the headmistress’s office.

Ravencrux crooked a finger in a silent command. I planted my feet harder. Professor or not, he didn’t own me.

“Come here, little pale flower.”

“I’m notpale,” I snapped. Never mind that I was; but I refused to be reduced to some delicate thing. “And I’m nobody’s flower. Stop calling me that, or every bully in this school will pick on me.”

I puffed out my chest to make a point, then instantly regretted it when his gaze dropped to my breasts. Heat flooded my face, but I didn’t back down.

His chuckle was a silky threat. “You won’t come to me?” He pushed off the podium, all lethal grace. “Then I’ll come for you.”

The air between us crackled with tension and undeniable attraction. My retreat was cut short. The desk dug into my back, leaving me nowhere to flee.

“Stay back, Professor,” I warned, voice steadier than I felt.

He advanced anyway.

“Stop . ” The word came out breathless. “You need to stop.”

Another step. Now his body caged me against the wood, his heat searing through my clothes. My mouth went desert-dry even as liquid fire licked between my legs.

“You didn’t beg me to stop in Obsidian Wilds,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “What’s different now?”

“ What’s different? ” I stared at him incredulously. “You’re my professor !”

A slow, wicked smile. “Keen observation.”

“And you don’t see the problem?”

“Enlighten me, little flower.” His fingertip traced my collarbone.

My anger flared. He was toying with me.

I slapped his hand away. “Professor don’t fuck students!”

“I haven’t exactly fucked you,” he mused, that infuriating smirk playing on his sensual lips. “When I fuck you, you’ll do more than scream.”

Heat climbed my neck and face, surely painting me the same crimson as my hair.

Part of me waited for—wanted—some shred of remorse. An apology would let me forgive him, let us pretend that night in Obsidian Wilds never happened. No one else needed to know.

But the thought of never feeling his hands on me again carved something hollow inside my chest. What kind of fool craved the fire that would burn her? Mom’s warnings echoed: “ Stay small, stay safe . ” And here I stood, ash already on my tongue.

“You didn’t know I was a student then,” I tried. “Now that you do, you should apologize.”

“Apologize?” His eyebrow arched. “For what exactly?”

“You know what .” My voice dropped to a low hiss. “You—a professor—had your mouth between my legs.”

“Did I?” he purred, his grin wolfish. “How naughty of me.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, deliberate as a caress. “I knew exactly who you were. New. Beautiful.” When his thumb grazed my jaw, the word came out rough with possession. “ Mine .”

That simple touch sent sparks skittering down my spine. I forced myself to blink away the haze of lust, pressing my lips into a firm line.

“Is kidnapping part of your usual routine?” The words came out sharper than I intended. “How many ‘inexperienced’ students have you dragged here just to lure into the woods?”

A sudden, vicious jealousy twisted in my chest, hot enough that I swore my vision tinted red.

“Let’s see.” He held up both hands, lazily folding one finger down at a time.

I hadn’t even noticed his arm sliding around my waist until it was already there—warm, solid,right. Like it belonged. I’d scold him for it later. For now, my traitorous body relaxed into the embrace.

My gaze darted to the door. Still locked.

Only his index finger remained upright. “One,” he murmured, his breath warm against my temple. “In twenty years. Ask anyone about my reputation. See if you can find a single soul I’ve so much as glanced at in this wretched place.”

A rush of satisfaction flooded me, sweet and undeniable.

Why me? The question burned in my throat, but voicing it would mean admitting I cared.

His lips brushed my earlobe. “Still thinking about my tongue between your thighs and how I licked your lovely flesh?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, but my body clenched at the memory, at how good it felt when he kissed me down there.

“Craving another taste?”

“Youcan’t speak to me like this,” I breathed.

A dark chuckle. “Can’t I?” His thumb traced my lower lip. “Tell me—when you touch yourself at night, do you imagine it’s my mouth or my cock?”

It never worked. I’d devoured every forbidden book I could hide from Mom, chasing the pleasure those pages promised.

But my own touch brought only emptiness, a hollow ache that lingered like a curse.

As if some vital part of me had been carved out long ago, leaving behind only this hollow shell, destined to wither untouched.

Then he came.

And suddenly, every nerve ending sparked to life.

His hands, mouth, scent, and voice—everything about him awakened something primal in me. But I’d be damned before admitting how much I craved him. Addicted to him.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I could report you for this.”

“Please do.” His smile was all sharp edges.

I shoved against his chest, but it was like pushing against a massive rock. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Are you sure?” His thumb brushed the pulse in my jaw. “I won’t always be around. This might be your last chance to have real pleasure.”

“Go…go fuck yourself.”

I twisted free, lunging for the aisle. He moved faster, a flash of movement, then his hand locked around my throat. Not enough to hurt. Just enough toown.

I widened my eyes as a whiff of fear and icy realization hit me.

He could kill me here.

This wasn’t some mundane university where teachers feared scandals. I’d seen students hex each other bloody before breakfast. No one would question a professor silencing an inconvenient girl. My death would be a smudge erased from Forsaken Academy’s records before the blood dried.

His fingers tightened.

But instead of terror, something electric surged through me—a perversealivenes s as his power seeped into my skin. His dominance didn’t crush me; itchargedme, like I was drinking down his strength. The wrongness of that revelation should’ve horrified me, or at least shamed me.

His eyes held mine, dark with possessiveness.

“Did you really think I’d let you go?” His thumb stroked my hammering pulse, enjoying this. “Twenty years I’ve searched for you.”

I wasn’t even twenty yet. Why would he look for me before I was born?

“Who are you?” The words scraped from my tight throat.

His smile held secrets. “You tell me.”

That dream flashed through my mind—his command, the darkness. But his eyes held no violence now, only hunger and something darker. Obsession.

“You’ve got the wrong girl,” I insisted. “I’m not who you think I am.”

His laugh curled around me like a caress. “You’reexactly who I’ve waited for. Did you forget my words in Obsidian Wilds? When I summon, you come.”

“You don’townme.” I bared my teeth. “Let go, or I’ll scream loud enough to ruin you.”

A hollow threat. No one would believe me over him.

“Please do, darling,” he purred, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’d enjoy an audience for what comes next.”

My breath hitched, my chest heaving up. “And what’s that?”

“Giving you what you ache for.” His palm slid lower. “Your body begs for me, little flower. Your pulse races. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest. And your body trembles for me.”

“Cocky, aren’t we?” I snorted, jerking back. “If I tremble, it’s fromrevulsion. Dangerous men like you? I’d rather walk through hell’s fire.”

“What do you know about hell’s fire, baby?

” He crooned and sniffed. “You aren’t a good liar, and your scent says it all.

You’re two seconds from begging for my cock.

Even now you’re dripping wet, so ready to be fucked.

Your panties are soaked. I dare you to lie to my face that you’re not.

And if you aren’t weeping for me, I’ll leave you alone forever. ”

“You can’t know that!” I objected and tried to press my thighs together, but he’d lashed out, faster than lightning. While his hand grabbed my throat to pin me down, his free hand roughly spread my legs open, shoved up my skirt, and slid into my soaked panties. Two fingers thrust into my wet heat.

I gasped, back arching as pleasure surged through me, my eyes flying wide. Foreplay clearly wasn’t his style—he hadn’t even palmed my flesh down there first. Then again, he’d conjured my orgasm in the forest before his lips had met mine.

“So hot, so fucking tight,” he growled, curling his fingers in my narrow channel.

Electric sensation danced across every nerve, yet a sliver of reason still held on.

“We shouldn’t do this, Professor…Ravencrux,” I managed, swallowing a moan.

“Why not?” His voice was a lust-darkened hiss, eyes locked on my reaction. “We both enjoy it.”

I hated my weakness, hated how easily I compromised my integrity—if this evenwasintegrity. But the pleasure was too addictive, and my body had been starved too long. No one had ever looked at me the way this devil of a professor did. No one else could play my body as he did.