Mated To The Dark One

He was seated in the corner of a shadow-drenched room. Though the darkness cloaked most of his features, I could feel the weight of his gaze scorching a trail down my body. The silk nightgown clung to my frame like a whispered sin, revealing more than it should. I blinked and he was suddenly there, mere inches from me. My breath caught in my throat, startled by how easily his towering presence consumed the space between us. The shadows still veiled his face, but the moonlight illuminated the naked expanse of his broad shoulders, the sculpted arms that wound around me before I could utter a sound, and the chiseled perfection of a chest that begged to be explored with the tip of my tongue.

He moved with unnatural grace, fast and fluid, stealing the distance between us as his mouth crashed into mine. His lips parted mine, delving deep with decadent, velvet strokes of his tongue. His hands followed, tracing the curve of my body through the thin silk each movement deliberate, precise, as if he already knew every rise and hollow. His scent, his touch, his sinful caresses each one stole a piece of my sanity. And when his fingers slipped the nightgown from my shoulders, baring my body to his, I was already his soul, body, everything.

His mouth trailed fire down my neck, branding kisses along my throat. My hands twisted into his hair dark, impossibly soft curls that felt like a dream. The pleasure was wicked, the kind that demanded damnation. And I would’ve sold my soul to make it last.

One of his hands curved around my ass, then slid between my thighs, teasing the most sensitive part of me. I moaned, caught between pleasure and madness. Then just as suddenly he pulled back, lifting his head to look at me. I still couldn't see his face, except his lips parted slightly, like he was about to speak, about to say something that would destroy me or save me.

“Miss Crivelli!”

The voice shattered everything.

"Present!" I yelped, launching to my feet. The classroom around me burst into laughter. My heart still thundered with the echoes of that dream, my skin tingling where he’d touched me except, of course, he hadn’t. It was all a fantasy.

My eyes dropped in panic to make sure I wasn’t actually naked. Thank the heavens I was clothed. Which meant… I’d fallen asleep. In class. Again. Oh God. Had I moaned?

I swallowed hard, blinking away the remnants of sleep, the fantasy still clinging to me like a lover’s touch. My gaze searched for the source of the voice that had dragged me back to reality: Professor Evaristo, scowling behind the podium, his grey suit blending into the gloom like a storm cloud ready to burst.

“Down here,” he said, voice like gravel and frost, foot tapping with thinly veiled fury.

“I... I'm sorry,” I stammered. What else could I say? “Your lectures are so boring I started hallucinating erotic dreams” wasn’t a great defense.

“I don’t want apologies, Miss Crivelli. I want attention!” he barked.

Right. I'd give him my full attention if I hadn’t been working night shifts and delivering food at dawn, only to rush to lectures still wearing the same uniform that stank of exhaustion and desperation. But all I managed was another, weaker, “I’m sorry,” accompanied by a downward glance.

“This is the third time you’ve disrespected my class with your snoring,” he snapped. “Leave.”

“Wait, but I ”

“Out!” His voice cracked like a whip.

Fantastic. Now I’d probably flunk the course and have to bribe him with brownies again assuming I could afford the ingredients. Maybe next week, if he’d cooled down by then.