Academic Affections

Part 12

  ⚠️only 18 and up⚠️full smutt⚠️

Here I was, in his office, everyone had already cleared the building and Sebastian was pacing back and forth in his office as I sat down in a chair. I never expected Cooper to do something like that, it's not him, he is a bubbly person and truly kind but this... something is going on with him and I'm not sure where we stand anymore. He obviously doesn't want to be friends and I don't want to be anymore than friends. "Sebastian..." I whispered hoping not to potentially set him off.

"He should have NEVER touched you like that. I swear to God if he ever so much as looks in your direct-" his voice filled with poison and his eyes narrowed towards me as I cut him off, "Sebastian! That wasn't Cooper it couldn't have been he would have never acted like that... something has to be going on with him." I said worriedly hoping to calm him down. Sebastian's jaw clenched, and he resumed his pacing, a caged animal in the confines of his office. "No, Mina. I can't sit back and watch this happen," he growled, his anger a palpable force in the room. "Cooper crossed a line, and I can't just chalk it up to him having a bad day." I stood up, my heart racing as I faced Sebastian's towering figure. "But that's just it, Sebastian. It's not like him. We need to understand why he did it before we make any rash decisions," I pleaded, trying to reach the man beneath the fury. Sebastian turned sharply, his eyes blazing. "Understand? He hurt you, Mina! And I can't-I won't-let that slide. I'm supposed to protect you from guys like him, not make excuses for them." He said looking down at the bruises Cooper made on my upper arm. I could see the protective fire burning behind his eyes, the instinctual need to shield me from harm. "I know you want to protect me, and I'm grateful for that, but this isn't the way," I insisted, hoping my voice would tether him back to reason.

He stalked toward me, his jaw set and eyes blazing with a feral light. The muscles in his arms tensed, each step a controlled explosion of the fury that had been simmering beneath the surface. "Mina," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, yet it carried an undercurrent of concern that only I could detect. His fingers gripped my face, not enough to hurt, but enough to command my attention, to ground me to the spot. His lips crashed against mine, a fierce and sudden collision that spoke of his need to connect, to reassure, to possess. Between the urgent press of his mouth, he whispered fiercely, "I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you," his voice rough with the intensity of his feelings. "You drive me insane," he admitted, his breath hot against my skin, his words a mix of anger and raw passion that left no doubt of his overwhelming need. He breathed against my lips, the words laced with a possessive edge. "And yet, I need you... like breath, like life." His hand moved from my face and down to my waist, gripping it with dominance with a hint of gentleness that belied his earlier aggression. His thumb brushed against my cheeks with his other hand, a stark contrast to the hard press of his lips, a silent apology and promise woven into the gesture.

⚠️smutt⚠️🔞⬇️

In the space between our heartbeats, he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze again, his own eyes now darkened with desire. "I crave you," he admitted, his voice a whisper that tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine and his lips found mine again. The once-gentle kiss turned into a rough and passionate kiss that grew more heated with every passing second. His hand gripped my waist tightly, and he slowly led me to the door, never breaking the kiss until my back lay flush against the door.

With a soft yet definitive *click*, the world outside was barred. He drew back, a breath away, his smirk a mirror to the mischief in his eyes. "Don't want anyone interrupting now, do we?" He said with playful challenge in his voice. A chuckle escaped me, low and laced with anticipation. "No interruptions," I agreed, my heart pounding against my chest, a silent testament to the thrill that coursed through me. His hands, those skilled artisans of touch, traced the contours of my body with a reverence that belied the urgency of our kiss. They spoke a language of their own, one of longing and possession that needed no words.