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Today, the lecture centers on the famous scientists of ancient Greece. The professor starts with the mathematician Archimedes and how he used science to defend the city of Syracuse against Roman invaders.
The professor brings the story to life, evidently also a fan of this particular tale. He tells us how legends state that Archimedes used a giant mirror to focus the sun and set Roman ships ablaze. I’m completely invested in learning more.
Leon’s voice comes again as a faint whisper against my ear. “That’s a lie, there weren’t any mirrors.”
I ignore him. The last thing I need is to encourage Leon to stand up and give the lecture himself. I imagine someone as old as he is has probably experienced this all firsthand. And as much as I would love to learn the material from someone who lived it, I’m not ready for the absolute mayhem that will occur if Leon decides to go fully visible again and terrify everyone here.
I’ve had years to come to terms with the supernatural activity that invaded my life. My friends and other students – not so much.
Despite Leon’s corrections to the professor, I take diligent notes, ensuring I remember the professor’s accountings correctly for my exams later in the year.
Leon isn’t in the mood to keep quiet. His whisper comes again, just behind my ear. “Actually, it wasn’t even Archimedes who had all those brilliant ideas. He had an assistant; she was the true genius. But as a woman, she wasn’t allowed to take credit, and Archimedes went on to be immortalized in your lessons, and she was left to be forgotten by the passage of time. She was a friend of mine.”
I can feel his body heat, and it makes my skin tingle. The now-familiar warmth of our bond spreads through me. He must be trying to distract me on purpose. I steadfastly continue to try and ignore him.
The professor has moved on now to Hipparchus, the founder of trigonometry. Leon doesn’t have much to say about Hipparchus but keeps messing with my concentration.
His voice comes again. “Do you always study so diligently? Such precise notes.”
I crouch forward on my desk, trying to put some distance between us. If this man ever went to school, he was definitely the naughty student who distracted the class for attention. I scribble again in the corner of my notebook.
‘Yes. Because I pay attention to the prof, now knock it off.’
Leon takes the hint and stops talking.
That doesn’t mean he behaves.
I feel his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers coming around to brush lightly against my throat. Instantly, the warmth I’ve been feeling from his whispers becomes a full-on bolt of heat that travels right to my core. I try not to gasp and instantly sit straight up.
Now he’s gone and done it. The bond between us flares fully to life. I try to be discrete as I cross my legs, squirming a bit in my seat.
My discretion is lost on Leon, who immediately changes his focus, moving to trail one hand up my thigh. My eyes widen as his hand reaches further up.
I move to write him another note, but in my haste, I drop my pen. A couple of students look my way, but I give them a tight smile as I bend under my chair to retrieve it.
I should have abandoned the damn pen.
While I’m leaning over, Leon takes the opportunity to sit back and place his arm where I was sitting. As I lean back again, I feel his arm around my lower back, stopping me from leaning back in my seat.
Doing my best to look completely normal to the few people who give me quizzical looks –I sit ramrod straight, not letting my back rest against Leon’s arm. Yetagain, I try to focus and figure out which scientist we’re on now.
I should have stayed home today.
Finally, catching up with where the professor is, I continue to try to take notes.
Seeing that I’m once again focused on my work, Leon sets about completely shattering my focus.
His arm curls around my back, and his hand settles on my stomach, his fingers grazing against the bottom of my breasts. I try not to whimper at the heavy feeling it causes and inhale slightly to increase his touch.
Leon’s hand freezes at the movement, only to realize what I’m doing. At that, he gives a slight growl before continuing, his thumb coming up to tease my nipple.
I’m breathing hard now, my legs once again crossing. I force myself not to show any obvious reaction that might draw more attention to me.
All powerful or not, I’m going to kill this Destroyer for the games he’s playing.
Leon’s second hand once again starts its path up my thigh, reaching the junction where I’ve crossed my legs. My dress is thin and doesn’t provide much of a barrier as he slips his fingers into the crease of my legs, allowing them to graze across the innermost part of my thighs.
My folded-over desk is on my left side, shielding me enough that no one can see the crease Leon’s hand is leaving.
