A Rose for a Student

As the delicate tips of my fingers ran down his muscular arm to trace his amazing tattoo sleeve, I could feel goosebumps covering his warm skin and the smallest of smiles lit up my face at the effects I had on him.

When I was about to retract my hand away, I knew he wouldn't allow our skin to break contact because he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and yanked my smaller frame towards him.

The next thing I knew, our lips were connected, meshing together in a hurried, perfect harmony - stuck in this heated, poisonous kiss. His bulky arms curled themselves around my waist and brought me closer, as if he wasn't satisfied at the inches of space left between us. As if he couldn't get enough, he lifted me up, encircling my legs around his waist without once breaking the kiss.

I then found myself gently laid down on his bed with him hovering over me, both arms trapping me from thinking of any way of escapade. One of his hands found its way to caress my rosy cheek as his blue eyes penetrated my own, silently asking me for permission.

He seemed to have taken my tiny smile as a good sign because his hand left my cheek to cool and instead, it slithered up the skin of my stomach, making my tank top ride up. A contented sigh left my lips as I thought that this was it. This was how my innocence would be lost to a man whom I had fallen head over heels in love with.

When I felt his lips grazing my throat and his hand intertwined itself with mine next to my head, I couldn't help but stare at the two shimmering, silver bands choking both his and my ring fingers.

No. This looked nothing as it seemed. He was not my husband, nor my fiance.

But that never came across our minds as we were too blinded by the lust and love in our eyes, letting ourselves tangle messily until our breath and heat combined fiercely. We were too caught up with the thought of molding into one that we had completely forgotten about one fact.

The fact that I was his student and he was my teacher.