The Professor Excerpt

He kisses me as if he’s about to go to war. As if he wants to remember the taste.

I push back, panting. “What’s your name?”

His hand cups my jaw, turning me, tilting me, kissing me again until I'm exposed to him.
plundered. Used. We're both breathing hard when he breaks away. I'm lost in a sea of sensual uncertainty, waves splashing like cold froth against heated skin.

He rests his forehead against mine. “Will. But you’ll call me sir.”