The filthy words combined with the possessive claiming makes me tighten around him. He feels it and groans.
"You like that, don't you?" His other hand comes around to work between my legs again, fingers finding my clit. "Like knowing you belong to me now. Like knowing I can bend you over my desk anytime I want and take what's mine."
"Yes." I'm shaking with the building pleasure. "Yes, Professor, please..."
The title makes him lose control completely. His thrusts become erratic and desperate, pounding into me with abandon. I can feel through the bond the moment he stops thinking and just takes what he needs. His fingers between my legs find the perfect rhythm. I come again, my body clenching around his cock as the orgasm tears through me.
He follows seconds later with a groan that sounds almost pained. I feel him swell even thicker inside me as he comes, filling me with his release. His hips keep moving, thrusting through his orgasm, driving his seed deeper while his cock pulses inside me.
We stay locked together like that, him still buried deep inside me while we both shake with aftershocks. I can feel his come leaking out around where we're joined and the feeling is primal and deeply satisfying.
We collapse onto the couch in a tangle of sweaty limbs. My whole body is trembling with aftershocks and I can feel him trembling too, can feel his emotions through the bond mixing with mine until I don't know who's feeling what anymore.
The bite mark on my shoulder throbs in time with my heartbeat. I reach up to touch it and my fingers come away with blood.
Julian sees it and something breaks in his expression. He sits up and puts his head in his hands.
"What did I just do?" His voice is hollow. "What did we just do?"
I sit up next to him and the bond pulls tight between us. His fear and guilt and desperate regret war with satisfaction and possessive pride and overwhelming love. I can feel all of it.
"We both did this," I say quietly. "This wasn't just you."
"I'm your professor." He's still not looking at me. "I'm supposed to protect you, not claim you in my office like some animal who can't control himself."
"Julian..."
"If they find out..." He finally looks at me and the fear in his eyes is stark. "If anyone discovers we're bonded, they'll execute me. And they'll probably execute you too for being complicit."
"I know."
"Do you?" His voice is almost angry now. "Do you really understand what we just did? What we just risked? I bit you. I marked you. That bite isn't going to heal like a normal wound. It's going to scar and anyone who knows what to look for will be able to see it."
I reach up to touch the mark again. "Then we hide it. We keep this secret."
"And the bond?" He grabs my hand and presses it to his chest over his heart. "You can feel me now, can't you? You can sense my emotions. How are we supposed to hide that when we're in the same room together?"
"We'll figure it out." I squeeze his hand. "We have to figure it out because I'm not sorry this happened and I don't want you to be either."
He pulls me against his chest and holds me so tight it almost hurts. Through the bond I can feel how terrified he is, how much he loves me, how he would do anything to keep me safe even from himself.
"I'm not sorry," he finally admits against my hair. "I should be. I should regret every second of what we just did. But I don't. I can't."
We sit there wrapped around each other while our breathing slows and our hearts stop racing. The bond hums between us, alive and electric, a constant reminder of what we've become to each other.
My mate. My professor. My secret that could get us both killed.
Outside his office, the Academy sleeps. Inside, we've just changed everything in ways we can't take back and don't want to.
I just hope we're smart enough to keep it hidden.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Iwalk into History class and the bond flares to life under my ribs.
Julian is at the front of the room with his back to the door, writing something on the board about Council formation dates. He doesn't turn when I enter. Doesn't acknowledge me at all. Just keeps writing like I'm no different from any other student filing in for his lecture.
But I can feel him through the bond and sense the spike of awareness when I cross the threshold, how his emotions shift from focused concentration to something more complicated. Fear and want and determination all tangled together and making my chest tight.
