Jorak’s smirk widens. He shifts his weight, the movement slow and deliberate, a display of power that is entirely unnecessary and completely effective. "I brought everything I need, Professor. And I’m very good at memorizing things that interest me."
Heat creeps up my neck. I turn back to the board and keep talking, but the lecture is a blur. I call on him twice, hoping to trip him up, to prove that he doesn't belong in my world of neat numbers and tidy solutions. He answers every time. He’s brilliant. He speaks about power as if it’s a living thing, something that needs to be guided rather than suppressed.
When the clock finally hits twelve, I pack my tablet, grab my bag, and bolt for the door. I weave through the students, myheart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I make it to the hallway, through the crowd of undergraduates, and into the faculty wing.
I reach my office, fumble with the keys, and practically throw myself inside. I lean against the door, closing my eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of old paper and stale coffee. I’m safe. He can’t come in here. This is a private office. This is—
The door is pushed open before I can lock it and Jorak walks in, his presence filling the small space until there’s no air left for me to breathe. He closes the door behind him and turns the lock with a soft, final click. I try to find my sarcasm, but it’s buried under a mountain of sudden, sharp panic. "What the hell are you doing?" I demand. My voice is too high. "You can’t be here. You’re a student. I’m a professor. This is a gross violation of—"
"You’re an Omega," Jorak muses, taking a step toward me. He doesn't look like a student anymore. He looks like the man who pinned me to a wall and told me I was the only thing that made the screaming in his head stop. "And you’re hiding. Why are you hiding, Asa? You didn't hide at Vesper House. You were very loud about what you wanted then."
"Vesper House was a mistake," I snap, backing up until my hips hit the edge of my desk. I grab the wood behind me, my knuckles whitening. "It was a biological necessity. It was a statistical anomaly that should have stayed in that clinic. You are an ESA asset, Jorak. You have a handler. You shouldn't be in my classroom, and you definitely shouldn't be in my office."
I’ve only heard about the S-Class Espers that are so vital to saving this city that they’re rarely ever in public. It didn’t click yesterday, but I had no idea Jorak would look so... ordinary. There’s some essence almost bleating around him but he’s also just... him.
Jorak stops a foot away from me and I can see the patterns in his energy, the jagged seams where something seems to be holding everything back.
His face scrunches up with confusion before he tilts his head, seemingly reading my fear. “I’m on suppressants as a precaution. I won’t have an outburst here.”
“Then why are you here?” I ask, silently wondering if he’s here for me. I couldn’t have made that much of an impression. “I know that you work with...”
He chuckles, cutting me off. “Because the ESA wants me near the nodes and to keep the campus safe. My essence doesn’t just attack. It absorbs.” Jorak’s shoulders fall a little as he steps closer. “But that’s not why I came in here. Asa...”
"Don't," I whisper. I can't look at him. If I look at him, I’m going to see the way his mouth is curved, the way his eyes are searching mine for a weakness I know I’ve already given him. "This can't happen. Not here. Not ever again. I’m an F-Class Guide, Jorak. I’m useless. I’m the man the system forgot. If anyone finds out what happened at Vesper House, the ESA will turn me into a piece of equipment. They’ll put me in a cage."
I let out a soft huff, sagging back against the wood.
"They won't touch you," Jorak says. He reaches out, his hand hovering near my face. He’s trembling. The most dangerous Esper in Redbrook is shaking because he’s afraid to touch me. "I’ll burn this city to ash before I let them put a hand on you. You’re mine, Asa. You signed the paperwork. You let me mark you. You let me knot you until you couldn't speak. You think you can just walk away because we’re in a building with a library?"
My brows furrow as I swallow nervously. “Jorak, you could have killed me yesterday. You could have...” I stutter over my words before finding something else. "I’m your professor," I say, the words sounding pathetic even to me. "I have to teach you. I have to grade your papers. I can't—"
Jorak moves too fast for me to react. He catches me by the waist, his fingers digging into the soft skin above my belt. I gasp, my hands flying up to grab his shirt before pulling him closer. The scent of black cedar and whiskey hits me as a wave of pure, unadulterated need that short-circuits my brain. My body remembers him. My body answers him before I can form a single thought. I fold into him, my forehead resting against his shoulder, my breath coming in jagged, desperate hitches.
"You smell like me," he murmurs against my hair. His hands move down, cupping my ass and lifting me until I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist. I’m pinned between his massive body and the hard edge of my desk, but I don't care.
I want him to crush me. I want him to fill the empty space in my chest that hasn't stopped aching since I left the clinic. "I didn’t even sleep when I left, Asa. I wandered the city. I haven't been able to breathe because your scent was everywhere, but it wasn’t you. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to leave, and I’ll walk out that door."
“This can’t happen,” I whisper before reaching up, fisting my hands in his hair, and pulling his head down. It’s messy and desperate and tastes like tea and whiskey and the end of the world. I moan into his mouth, my tongue tangling with his as my teeth graze his bottom lip.
He makes a low, guttural sound in his throat, a sound of pure possession that makes slick gather in my underwear, an embarrassing reminder of exactly what I am.
He backs me further onto the desk, clearing a stack of student essays with a careless sweep of his arm. Paper flutters to the floor, Jorak’s eyes nearly black, the way his pupils have blown out until there’s only a thin rim of iris left.
Jorak’s hands move under my shirt now, his palms hot against my skin. He traces the line of my spine, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. He pulls back for a second, his breath hot againstmy lips. "I want to fuck you on this desk," he growls. "I want to fill you until you’re dripping with my cum, and then I want to carry you home and do it again. I want to knot you until you forget your own name. I want to keep you, Asa. I want to keep you forever."
I haven’t even known this man for over a day but his words sound like a promise I want to keep. But the cost...
I push him back, my hands flat against his chest. I’m shaking, my glasses lopsided on my face, my lips swollen and stinging. "Stop," I say. It’s more of a whimper than a command. "Jorak, stop. How... how does this even work? How can you touch me? I’ve heard stories or rumors... I don’t know. The textbooks say... I don’t understand why I’m not dead, why your essence didn’t drain me...”
Jorak stands there, his chest heaving, his hands fisted at his sides, pain moving through his expression. "I didn't kill you," he says, his voice flat. "I don’t know but I control it with you. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to touch without holding back."
"I’m a professor at a failing university in a city that’s about to explode," I say, sliding off the desk and trying to straighten my clothes. My hands won't stop trembling. "I’m not a cure. I’m not a stabilizer. I’m just a man who made a very big mistake at a rut clinic."
Jorak steps back, but he doesn't unlock the door. He watches me, his gaze sweeping over my disheveled hair, my flushed face, the way I’m trying to pull my professional mask back into place. The air changes in the room as his expression turns almost sinister. "You signed that paperwork just fine before you let me knot your sweet little hole," Jorak says. "You chose me, Asa. You didn't just survive me; youwantedme. Even after you found out I was an Enigma. And even now, before I kissed you, you knew who I was. Who Iam.You can pretend for the class, but don'tyou dare lie to me. We both know you only stopped because you’re afraid of the colleagues in the next office, not because you wanted me to stop."
He reaches out, turns the lock, and opens the door. He doesn't look back as he walks out. I’m left standing in the middle of my office, surrounded by scattered papers and the lingering scent of black cedar.
Jorak
