This is wrong, Finn.

He’s my professor.

“I need you to tell me, Finley,” he whispers.

His voice is deep andrich, just like honey. I wonder if he tastes as sweet as my head falls back against his shoulder. My cheek brushes against his, his stubble gently scratching my skin. With trembling fingers, I softly grasp his hand that still grips my wrist, trailing my thumb over his.

“Tellme.”

“Please,” I rasp feebly.

My voice doesn’t even sound like mine—I’m drunk on him.

Luca shudders, his breath cascading across my exposed neck as he rolls his hips into me. I can hear him hold his breath for a moment from the friction, chasing it again as he bucks against me for a second time. His movements are tentative and needy, blending as he pulls me toward him with every thrust.

“If we do this…” he trails off.

His fingers dig into my waist so harshly, I’m sure there’ll be bruises later. The thought of his mark left behind on my hip makes me bite my bottom lip, my fingers still resting on his, tugging them down. He follows with his hand as I guide him down the front of my skirt, stopping just at the hem, both of us hesitating quietly.

That thin line, the step to cross over that boundary, feels like leaping over a sheer drop. Once our feet land on the other side, things will never be the same—wewill never be the same. But as his finger brushes against my inner thigh, I’ve never wanted to bound across that line more.

Nothing that feels this good can be wrong.

“Touch me?” I beg.

I release the grip I have on his hand as I brush it underneath the hem of my skirt, placing my palms against the door to brace myself.

He growls in response.

My stomach swirls with excitement, exhilaration, and nervousness all in one. It feels like a huge bundle of nervesweighing me down, all the way to my core, begging to be released. I yearn for the feeling of his fingers pressed against my clit. I throb just thinking about it. His hand moves in slow motion as it slides up my thigh, making me squirm impatiently beneath him.

“Luca,” I plead eagerly.

I feel his body freeze, and I hold my breath. Dread fills my veins. Has he come to his senses? Realized he’s making a mistake?

“You know my name?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

For a moment, I’m scared I’ve ruined everything. I’ve invaded his privacy. I’ve given him the impression I’m a stalker. My mind starts to spiral, self-sabotage mode in full force, as my shoulders sag feebly.

His lips press against my ear. “Say it again.”

I lean into his touch as a shiver wracks through me. “Luca.”

A groan escapes his mouth and into my ear as his hand slides up further, his fingers finding my most sensitive spot through my panties. The contact makes me inhale sharply as he beings to circle his middle finger against my clit. I hate not being able to feel his skin against my own.

Arching into him, pressing my ass against his erection, I moan softly as he works his fingers over me. His arm wraps around my waist as he touches me, pulling me flush against him as he rolls his hips in sync with my own.

“Silencio,” he hisses. “You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you? Want anyone to try walking in here while I’ve got you in the palm of my hand?”

It’s obvious we want to cross the line but are afraid of goingtoofar. We settle into the perfect rhythm of his finger rubbing my clit through the fabric as he grinds himself against my backside, chasing the release he’s so close to giving me too. It’sjust enough to reach what we desire but not enough to make the guilt pool in our stomachs.

He could easily pull away like this if someone came through the door. That statement alone should have me running away, but it didn’t feel wrong. Not even close. Not with the way he’s panting heavily in my ear as we grind against each other. Not with the way he’s cupping my damp pussy as his thumb takes over my clit. It feels incredible.Addicting. I know I’m only going to want more and more andmore. And from where I stand, encapsulated by his large hand, it seems like a risk worth taking.

I’m falling apart in his palm, and I haven’t even felt his lips against mine.

“You have five minutes,” he rasps, his other hand coming off the door to grab my waist as he rubs himself against me. “Five minutes before people start filing in here. I need you to come, Finley.”