The Little Bride

The Little Bride

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, jun 30, 2025
"Miss Davis, stay here. I want to discuss your grades," he said, looking into my glaring eyes. "Sorry, my friend James is waiting for me. I need to go," I said, looking straight into his eyes with a sweet smile on my face, stressing more on the word "friend," and I saw how his jaw clenched. Miss. Hans smiled as I said that to him. I could see she wanted to spend time with him, and it increased my jealousy even more. Without sparing him a glance, I walked out of his office in fast steps as I felt his heated gaze on me. I started running once I was out of the class, with tears threatening to fall from my eyes. Before I could reach the exit, my hand was grabbed and I was pushed against the wall of an empty corridor, making me gasp in fear. "Let me go; someone will see us," I said as he pressed his hard body against mine. I tried to push him with my hands, but he pinned them on either side of my head with a firm grip on my wrist. "I don't care," he said, pressing his body closer to mine, making my protesting movements stop with a gasp as he buried his face in my neck possessively. "Leave me and go spend your time with Miss. Hans," I said in anger and pure jealousy while looking into his amber eyes as he moved his face to look at me. He smirked while listening to my words. He knows I'm burning from the inside. "You will go nowhere with that James," he said, burning in anger, ignoring my words, making me look at him with a scowl. "Professor, leave me. It's inappropriate of you to ask me not to see my friend. You have no right on me," I said in the same mocking voice, and his jaw clenched even more. "The professor doesn't, but I have every fucking right to you as your husband, my little bride," he said with a smirk on his face. Yes, you heard it right. I'm married to my maths professor.
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❝𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚 & 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚❞ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {𝖠 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 } | | Mature content 18+| |

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