Page 102 of Forbidden Lessons

Or, perhaps, because we crave the emotional aspect of such a primal connection with another being. Seeing their desperate need reflected in ours.

Their emotions. Their arousal.

The realization of theirownfantasies.

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, palms flat on the vanity’s cool white marble. The line of coke I just snorted lights up my nerve endings like the Fourth of July, sending my heart into a frantic patter that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

Balancing on this cusp is what I’ve always craved.

The moment where I always wonder if, this time, it’ll be too much.

I’ve been toying with death since I was a child. Leaving it to chance if I’d die, playing Russian roulette with God.

Or Lucifer.

If I die before I wake,

one of them my soul will take.

But if I stay it must mean,

I still have places to be.

A grin flashes over my face, but I quickly smooth it away. No one enjoys looking at the visage of a lunatic. They prefer charming, intelligent, rational Professor Rooke.

That’s why I had to come to this shitty town. People becameopinionatedabout me at my old haunt. They became nosy. Guarantee it will happen here, too. But in such a small town, it’s easier to control the flow of gossip.

I pause on the bedroom’s threshold, watching Haven as she tries to pull herself together.

There’s a smile on my lips. When this pretty little student came to me for help, she had no idea she’d be succumbing to a sedative I fed her.

She touches her neck where I’d applied the salve.

Pushes damp hair out of her face.

Her blue eyes are wide when she whips her head around to look for me. They widen even more when she spots me leaning against the doorframe.

“Professor?” There’s a note of panic in her voice.

I believe Haven now, saying that she fought off her attacker, because she fights the pill I gave her too.

But, just like her attacker, the pill is too strong. Haven, too weak.

Or she simply realizes there will be less pain if she submits.

I unbutton my shirt. “Please. Call me Bastian.”

Her eyes follow my hands down my chest, her rosy lips parting as her eyelids grow heavy.

“Bast…” She slowly licks her lips, forcing her eyes open. “I don’t…feel…”

I dart forward, catching her when she slumps to the side, then gently laying her down the rest of the way. Her eyelids flicker as she fights to stay conscious, but in a minute or two, she’s going to be dead weight.

“The body heals in sleep.” I strip off my damp shirt, tossing it to the corner of the room. “Let it heal, Haven.”

The bedsheets rustle as I rip them aside. Haven flinches when the corner touches her back, but that’s the only response she gives.

I grab her under her arms and drag her up the bed until her head is on a pillow. Her head lolls to the side, and I brush damp hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

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