Reaching into my cloak pocket, I grab the cuff link and pull it out.
“I found this.” As I uncurl my fingers, the dim light from the candle on Severin’s desk catches the golden cuff link, making it glow.
Severin hesitates, then reaches out, taking it from me with delicate fingers. “You found it.” His eyes meet mine. “Where?”
I shrug. “On my way back from the bathhouse. I knew it was yours the moment I saw it and figured you’d want it back.”
Slowly, the harsh expression on his face softens. As he curls his fingers around it, he nods. “Yes. Thank you.”
Silence settles between us, and I take a moment to cast my gaze around his apartment. It’s small but cozy, with a quaint kitchen, a hearth hugged by an armchair, a desk, a wardrobe, anda—
My eyes land on Severin’s bed. It’s impeccably made, with no hint of a single wrinkle in the comforter or pillowcases. Of course he makes his bed like that. It’s so... Severin.
He must see something on my face, because he says, “What is it?”
But I just shake my head. With my tension melting away, I step deeper into the apartment, inviting myself to take a look around.
“Maeve,” Severin says from behind me, where he still hasn’t moved, as if his feet are rooted to the floor, “you’re not supposed to be here. This wing is off-limits to students.”
“I know,” I say, setting my bag with my bath items down next to his armchair. Then I reach up and unclasp my cloak, and I hear Severin’s small intake of breath as I take it off and drape it over the back of the chair. “But now that I’m here”—I cast a glance back at him—“I think I’d like to stay.”
He flexes his jaw, which is shadowed by stubble from the day. “No. You have to go back.”
I frown at him, then move toward the hearth, where the fire has burned down to embers. “Come on, Professor,” I say softly. Conjuring a small flame in my palm, I send it into the hearth, relighting the fire. Then I brush the heat from my hand and turn to face him. “Just for a while. Once the castle has gone to sleep, I’ll go back to my room.” A small smile tugs on my lips. “I promise.”
“If someone catches you here—”
“They won’t,” I say. “The door is locked.” One of my brows arches slowly. “And it’s hard to hear through stone.”
Severin’s throat bobs as he swallows, and he tightens his fingers into fists at his sides. Without a word, he walks to hisdesk, where he sets the cuff link down. Then he presses his palms flat to the wood, and I admire the curve of his back and the definition in his shoulders, which I can see through the thin material of his tunic.
“This is dangerous,” he says, still not turning to me. “If we get caught, I’ll lose my job, and you’ll—”
“Severin.” I pad across the stone floor, then reach out to rub one hand along his back. His muscles are coiled tight. “I know the risk. I’m sorry. And once the halls are quiet, I’ll go back to my room. Until then, can we at least enjoy a moment together?” I take a breath, then whisper, “I’ve missed you.”
Beneath my palm, his muscles start to soften. He draws a big breath, then lets it out in a sigh. Finally, after a long moment, he says, “I’ve missed you too.”
With a smile, I ease around him and lift myself onto the edge of his desk, perching there, my feet no longer touching the floor. Severin straightens, looking down at me, the candlelight tossing a warm glow across his face.
“How was your week?” I ask.
His lips quirk up on one side. “Agonizing.”
“Oh?” I tip my head. “Why the agony?”
Severin hesitates, and I can see the thoughts running through his mind, can see the way his eyes narrow as he makes a determination about what he’s going to do and say next. Then he presses my legs apart and steps close, so my knees are on either side of his hips. “Because I think about you every moment of every day.” His hand finds my cheek, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You haunt me when you’re not near.”
“Good.” I lean forward, and Severin catches his breath as I press kisses along his stubbled jaw. Pulling back, I whisper against his skin, “I’ll be your phantom, Professor.”
He moves his hand to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. And then he finally captures my lips in his.
He tastes like whiskey, and as I deepen our kiss, drawing his bottom lip into my mouth and ensnaring it between my teeth, he groans.
Then his hands are on my hips, reaching for the waistband of my soft cotton pants. We have to break our kiss, and I shift my weight on the desk so that he can slide the fabric off my hips and pull the pants down the length of my legs. As soon as the fabric hits the floor, his mouth is on mine again, and I gasp as he reaches between our bodies, pushing my panties aside to sink a finger into my pussy.
He slides it all the way in, then moves his mouth to my ear to whisper, “Why so wet, Miss Vandermere?”
I spread my legs, wanting more, and gasp out, “It’s your fault.” My eyes open, and I meet his heavy gaze. “This is what you do to me, Professor.”
