Caius Veldt

His back hit the wall. Hard. Heat flared beneath his skin, crawling up his neck as she pressed in, her scent wrapping around him like a trap. "We—We can’t—" His voice faltered, his hands barely gripping her waist. "Someone might see—" "Then you better learn to stay quiet, Professor." A slow tug. His tie loosened. Fingertips brushed his throat, dragging down his collar, teasing, testing. He swallowed hard. "This is—this is reckless—" "And you love it." Her breath ghosted over his jaw, her lips barely skimming his skin before pulling away, leaving heat in their wake. His pulse thundered. "I—I have a lecture—" "Not before I do." The first button slipped free. Then another. The air hit his skin, cool against the warmth pooling low in his stomach. Her nails traced down his chest, slow, deliberate. "So tense." A smirk tugged at her lips. "What’s wrong, Professor? Scared?" His hands twitched at her hips, unsure—helpless. "Someone—" His breath stuttered when her teeth scraped his throat. "Someone could walk by—" "Then stop looking so guilty." A sharp tug at his belt. A quiet, controlled gasp. His grip on her hips tightened. Not to stop her. A chuckle, warm and wicked against his throat. "See?"