BURNING BETRAYAL: My Mafia Professor

006

Without warning, he swept me off the table and carried me in his arms.

My breath hitched as his arms locked around me, strong and unyielding. One hand supported my back, the other firm beneath my thighs. His eyes never left mine as he started up the stairs, each step slow, deliberate, like he wasn’t in a hurry at all.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst through my chest.

This wasn’t just fantasy anymore. This wasn’t something I’d read about in books late at night or imagined when I couldn’t sleep. This was real. Tangible. Terrifying.

Fear and excitement twisted together in my stomach until I couldn’t tell one from the other.

I should have told him to stop. Should have pushed against his chest.

Instead, I stayed still in his arms, my body betraying every rational thought my mind tried to form.

We reached the hallway.

He pushed a door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. I barely registered the room itself. My attention was locked on him—on the way his jaw tightened slightly, on the calm in his movements, on how steady he was while I felt like I was unraveling.

He lowered me onto the bed gently, carefully, as if I were something fragile.

Then he stepped back.

The distance felt louder than any touch. His eyes swept over me slowly, deliberately, like he was committing every detail to memory. I could feel the weight of his gaze settle on my skin, heavy and consuming.

Fear crawled up my spine.

So did desire and lust.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

The words hit me harder than any shout could have. My fingers trembled as I reached for the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head, the fabric brushing against my skin as it came off, leaving me exposed beneath his stare.

My hands moved to the button of my jeans.

“Slowly, angel.”

My stomach flipped at the word.

I swallowed, my throat dry, and obeyed. The sound of the zipper felt too loud in the quiet room. I pushed my jeans down inch by inch, my movements clumsy, my legs weak. His eyes never left me, dark and intent, like he was watching prey that had already surrendered.

When the jeans slid off, I stood there in nothing but my bra and underwear, my arms instinctively hovering near my sides, unsure of where to rest.

I reached behind my back and unclipped my bra.

The straps slid down my arms, and I let it fall to the floor. Cool air kissed my skin, making me shiver. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his eyes dipped briefly before returning to my face.

That look alone sent heat pooling low in my belly.

Last came my underwear.

My fingers hesitated for just a second before I pushed them down, stepping out of them and standing bare before him.

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

He moved.

Slow steps brought him to the edge of the bed, right in front of me. He leaned in, his hand coming up to grip my neck, not tight, but firm enough to make my breath catch. He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart.

My body shook.

He kissed me, deep and consuming, then pulled back just enough for his lips to brush my ear.

“Are you scared?” he whispered.

His voice was low, intimate, and dangerous.

“I’m not,” I said, though my voice wavered.

A lie.

“You’re shaking.” His eyes lifted to mine. Then his fingers pinched my n****e sharply, sending a jolt through my body. A sound slipped from my mouth before I could stop it.

His lips curved faintly. “Your fear,” he murmured, “it turns me on.”

Heat flooded my face. I hated that he could see everything I was feeling. Hated that my body reacted so honestly when my mind wanted to stay guarded.

Before I could gather myself, his teeth closed around my n****e.

A scream tore from my throat.

My head fell back as he sucked and bit, his hand kneading the other breast roughly. My knees felt weak, my hands fisting his hair as sensation ripped through me, sharp and overwhelming.

“f**k…” The word fell from my lips, breathless and broken.

He twirled his tongue around my n****e, slow and deliberate, his eyes lifting to meet mine. The way he watched me, like he wanted to see every reaction, every crack in my control, made my pulse race.

His mouth moved down my neck, teeth grazing my skin before returning to my other breast. At the same time, his hand slid between my thighs, rubbing slow circles around my c**t.

“Like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed, the answer spilling out before I could stop it.

His finger slid into me, and I cried out as pleasure curled tight and hot in my stomach. His tongue stayed busy at my breast, his mouth relentless while his finger moved inside me, slow at first, then faster.

My back arched. I bit my lip, trying to hold back the sounds building in my chest, but they escaped anyway, soft and needy.

I was shameless.

My body clenched around his finger as the pressure built higher and higher. I could feel it—right there, close, my whole body trembling as I teetered on the edge.

Then he pulled away.

The sensation vanished, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

A groan tore from me. “What the hell?”

He straightened, watching me with a calm, knowing smirk. “No rush, angel.”

Before I could protest, he stood back and began undoing his belt.

My eyes widened.

His c**k was already hard, straining against his pants, and my mouth went dry. He removed his belt, pushed his pants down, and even with his underwear still on, the length of him was impossible to ignore.

Heat flooded between my thighs.

He pulled his underwear off and wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I could barely breathe.

“On your knees.”

The command sent a shiver through me. I didn’t hesitate. I sank down in front of him, my lashes fluttering as I looked up. The position made me feel small, exposed, and powerful all at once.

His hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me forward as he pushed his c**k into my mouth.

The taste of him filled my senses. I moaned softly around him, my tongue instinctively moving as he started thrusting.

His hips moved steadily, using my mouth like he owned it. I gagged as he pushed deeper, tears spilling from my eyes as my throat struggled to take him.

“You feel so f*****g good,” he groaned.

His head tipped back, his grip tightening as he thrust harder, deeper. “Take me all in, baby.”

I did.

Despite the tears, despite the burning in my throat, pleasure curled through me. I wanted this. Wanted him. The control, the intensity, it all made my head spin.

He pulled out suddenly.

Before I could catch my breath, he lifted me from the floor and pushed me onto the bed, climbing over me immediately. His mouth moved to my neck, kisses messy and hungry, his tongue tracing my skin, his lips sucking until my breath stuttered.

He lined himself up and pressed his c**k against me.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He pushed into me slowly.

My mouth fell open as the stretch filled me inch by inch, my body adjusting to him as he moved in and out, unhurried, controlled.

My arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close as his pace picked up.

“You wrap around me so perfectly,” he said.

“Oh yes,” I moaned, the sound tearing free as pleasure built again.

He bit my neck, thrusting harder now, my cries filling the room. The sound of skin against skin echoed around us, mixing with his groans, my breathless pleas.

His pace increased, relentless, driving me higher and higher. I could feel it coming, my whole body shaking beneath his.

Then he slammed back into me hard.

A scream ripped from my throat. I clutched him tighter, our eyes locking as he pounded into me without mercy. The pressure snapped, pleasure exploding through me as my climax hit.

My body shattered beneath him.

He followed with a final thrust, finishing deep inside me, his body trembling as he collapsed against mine.

For a moment, there was nothing but ragged breathing.

Then he slid out and rolled onto the bed beside me.

Silence filled the room, heavy and intimate, broken only by the sound of us trying to catch our breath.