Page 5 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

My heart is going to explode.

I reach for the notebook, barely able to keep my hand steady. He doesn’t resist. He just watches me with a kind of heat that makes my insides flip. Our fingers brush as I take it, and I swear something electric snaps between us. Like a spark catching flame. I look at him, and he’s already watching me like he knows.

Knows that I’m burning. That I want to burn for him.

I flip through the pages, pretending I’m not trembling. My fingertip lands on the one I was picturing the entire time he spoke. I can’t look at him as I turn the book, pointing silently at the scene.

The one where I wrote about being on my knees for him.

His eyes drop to the page, scanning quickly. And then he lets out a low, feral sound that sends a shiver straight through me.

He pushes his chair back from his desk and swivels it towards me. “Get on your knees.”

I don’t even think. My body just moves. By the time he’s finished the sentence, I’m already on the floor in front of him, breathless and aching and ready.

He leans back in his chair, legs spread wide, looking down at me with open hunger.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush his thumb against my lower lip. “So fucking eager. I can’t wait to find out what it feels like to have these soft, pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

I lift my eyes. My throat is dry, my body wound so tight I can’t even feel where I end and he begins.

“You should know that I’ve never…” I whisper, voice barely there. “This is my first time. Doing this. With anyone.”

Roman stills. His entire expression shifts. Darkens. There’s a sharp, possessive edge in his eyes now.

“How the fuck,” he says, voice rough, “did you write those stories so well if you’ve never actually done this before?”

I blush hard. “I just imagined it. I thought about you and… made it up.”

He groans, almost like he’s in pain. One hand runs through his hair as he mutters something low under his breath. Then his eyes lock back onto mine.

“I’m glad,” he says. “Glad I’m the first. The only. Because the thought of anyone else touching my pretty little writer makes me want to kill whoever dared to imagine they could have what’s mine.”

My breath catches. My core clenches.

God help me. If he keeps talking like that, I might combust on the spot before I even get a chance to taste him.

I glance down, trying not to let him see how weak his words make me. Trying not to beg for more. But my gaze lands on his cock, and the sight is enough to make me whimper.

Because the thing pressing hard against the fly of his pants is enormous. Long and thick and hard. He hasn’t even freed it from his clothing, and I’m already more than a little intimidated.

But a whole lot turned on.

My eyes flicker back up to his, and the dark smirk I see on his face tells me that he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

His hands move to his belt, and his fingers undo the buckle slowly. With one hand, he undoes the top button of his jeans, then unzips his fly. He lifts his hips, pushing his pants and boxers down just far enough to free his massive erection.

The sight of his cock, thick and throbbing and bare, is like a punch to the gut. He’s even bigger than I’d thought, and every cell in my body is begging for a taste.

He wraps a hand around his shaft and strokes lazily, eyes burning into mine. “Come here, Callie. Open that pretty mouth for me.”

I can’t breathe.

My heart is beating so hard I can feel it everywhere, in my ribs, my throat, between my legs. My thighs clench involuntarily.

This is real. He’s real. And he’s huge and beautiful and hard, and he wants me.

He wants me.

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