Page 26 of Lunar Crest University

My chest heaves as I frown up at him, ignoring the alluring pull between us that makes me want to lean toward him as I gnaw at the inside of my lip. His fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, his other hand clenched by his side. His face is mere inches from mine. All I have to do is stand on my tiptoes?—

No.

“But tell me,Princesa,” Luca continues faintly, his eyes flickering down to my pursed lips before meeting my unsteady gaze. “Have I ever made you feel the way he made you feel?”

Grinding my molars, I drop my head, staring down at his fingers wrapped loosely around my wrist. I know the silence is deafening, an answer all on its own, but I didn’t want to admit it to him. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of hearing it come from my lips—how he makes me feel safe. Warm. Electric. So, I say nothing at all.

“Stay after class on Wednesday to retake the quiz,” he whispers after a few beats. “Go home. Rest.”

Letting go of me, Luca turns to walk back to his desk, picking up his glasses and putting them on as he starts gathering the scattered papers without another glance in my direction. The guilt settles deep in my stomach as I watch him clean up the mess I made.

Readjusting the bag on my shoulder, I swallow thickly as I hurry from the classroom, bursting through the door with so much force, it makes me flinch when the door bangs against the wall from the momentum. I don’t stop until I run down the steps of the English Hall and find myself at the bus stop. Rubbing my wrist gently, I still feel the heat from his touch.

What does it mean that I crave to feel it again?

Chapter Eleven

LUCA

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11TH, 2023

There’s no erasing Finley Dunaway from my mind. She’s etched into my brain permanently, tattooed into the hippocampus. The way her porcelain cheeks flushed crimson, her soft skin reddening under my gaze as I had her pinned to the classroom wall on Monday— it all formed a dangerous addiction in my veins. I yearn to see her rosy, burning cheeks again—a stark contrast to her green eyes and dark hair. I want to reach out and brush my thumb along her cheekbones, following the feverish glow dancing on her face.

So much for self-control.

It had taken every ounce of strength inside of my body not to touch her, to press my hardened cock against her through my pants. The mere sight of her writhing beneath me, blushing and shuddering as my fingers clamped over her full lips, turned me on. I wanted to redden her skin everywhere, with my lips, my beard, myteeth.

But the last thing she needed was another man putting his hands on her.

Get a fucking grip.

It’s all I can think about during class as I drone on aboutShakespeare’s Sonnet 18and its relation to immortality. My eyes flicker toward Finley now as I speak, walking back and forth in front of my desk, observing the way she peers down at me from her seat. Her eyes are piercing, gazing at me with such intensity, I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing so. It feels like she’s studying me to my core, and God, I almost want to allow her.

It’s exhausting trying to fight the lull of attraction toward her. How much would it hurt to give in? Just one time. Get it out of my system, wipe my hands clean of her afterward. Just once.

That’s how fucking addictions start. It’s only supposed to be once, and then suddenly, you’re doing it over and over andover.

I feel like I’m practically breaking out into a cold sweat by the end of the period from the longing stares in her direction for the last hour. I wonder if she thinks I’ve lost my mind, but she isn’t necessarily looking away, either. It’s like a game—who can look away first? I had failed every time.

The tension that fills the room is almost suffocating. I wait for it to let up as students file out of the classroom, but it only feels more constricting as it dwindles down to just her and me. Despite the extra space with everyone gone, there’s still so much strain, I need to take a deep breath as she makes her way down to my desk.

“Ready?” I ask her quietly.

She purses her lips tentatively. “As I’ll ever be.”

Grabbing the quiz from my top drawer, I extend my hand as I offer it to her, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. I watch as she hesitantly reaches out to take the paper, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Take your time,” I clear my throat. “There’s no rush.”

Her thick eyebrows cinch as she frowns at me. “I should get ten minutes just like everyone else did.”

Pressing my tongue to my cheek, I exhale gruffly. It shouldn’t surprise me that she has decided to be stubborn about this, and it really doesn’t, not as much as it lights that fire deep in my stomach. The heat rushes straight to my cock. Her attitude holds the ignition switch to my erections.

I’m a grown man, for fuck’s sake.

“If you say so.”

Grinding my molars, I struggle to keep my face impassive as I watch her stomp toward the nearest desk and plop down. The veins in my neck feel like they’re going to burst out of my skin as her skirt flutters on her thighs as she sits, brushing dangerously close to her center. Jerking my eyes away from her, I perch coolly at my desk and pretend to be busy with some papers to pass the time.

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