Silk And Smoke

Silk And Smoke

  • WpView
    LECTURES 35,944
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,138
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 49
WpMetadataReadContenu pour adultesTerminé ven., juil. 11, 20253 h 28 min
WpInfo
Fiction
Romance
Harper Quinn is all soft edges and vintage ribbons - the kind of girl who writes love poems she never sends and spends weekends digging through record bins. Nineteen. Bright-eyed. A little too curious. And far too drawn to the woman behind the desk. Professor Vivian Wolfe is everything Harper isn't. Forty. Composed. Cold. Draped in sharp suits and cigarette smoke, with a voice like velvet and a stare that cuts through excuses and innocence alike. Their worlds should never collide - not outside of annotated essays and closed classroom doors. But literature has always blurred the lines between longing and taboo. And Wolfe, for all her rules and red pens, starts reading Harper like a story she can't put down. She was supposed to teach her restraint. Instead, she taught her how it feels to burn.
Tous Droits Réservés
Rejoignez la plus grande communauté de conteursObtiens des recommandations personnalisées d'histoires, enregistre tes préférées dans ta bibliothèque, commente et vote pour développer ta communauté.
Illustration

Vous aimerez aussi

  • Perhaps, Ms. Dover
  • The Bitter Dance of Hollow Hearts
  • 𝑰 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝑴𝒔 𝑪𝒂𝒊𝒏.
  • St Katherine's
  • Four Page Letters (TeacherxStudent)
  • My Pretty Girl <3
  • Elena's Favorite Lesson
  • Ms. Maldini
  • In Amber and Skin [wlw]
  • Ms. Calloway

Professor x Student | WLW Claire Dover (20) is standing at the edge of something she can't name. It began with a single moment, an instinct to reach out, to care, before she even knew who the woman was. Just a stranger in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn't expect to see her again. She didn't expect that the woman she pulled back from the road would later introduce herself as Professor Hartmann (39). And Lyn? She never meant to care. She is the kind of woman who carries old grief like a folded letter in her coat pocket. But Claire is all sharp glances, quiet presence, and impossible timing. Now, every look, every pause between words, threatens to unravel something they both try to hold together. A slow-burn sapphic love story about restraint, proximity, and all the things we feel before we can name them.

Plus d’Infos
WpActionLinkDirectives du Contenu