His thumb kept moving—slow, deliberate—smearing the tear across my cheek like he was painting something only he could see.
“What it *really* did,” he murmured, lips so close they grazed the shell of my ear with every word, “was make me want to drag you out of that lecture hall right then.
Right in front of all of them.
Shove you against the nearest wall, hike that skirt up, and f**k you so hard the whole building would hear exactly who you belong to.”
My breath caught—sharp, almost painful.
He pulled back just enough to look at me.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Eyes burning like he’d been holding this inside since the second I stood up trembling in his class.
“You think I laughed because it was funny?”
His voice cracked—just once—low and raw.
“I laughed because if I didn’t
