Nocticadia

by Keri Lake

Bramwell. I made a mental note of that.

The attached file read: Welcome to Dracadia University. Biting my cheek failed to contain the smile itching to break free. Because I, Lilia Vespertine, was going to fucking Dracadia University.

“What separates monsters from good men is only a matter of perspective. In your eyes, I’m a sick fuck for what I’ve done to you. But I, on the other hand, see you as a parasite.”

Growling in frustration, I spun around and straight into an unyielding wall of man. A burning humiliation thoroughly heated my face, as I stepped back. “I’m sorry!”

For the first time since my mother had died, I felt a sense of belonging.

“See me after class, Miss Vespertine.”

Without a doubt, Lilia Vespertine was going to be a massive headache. But she was my headache.

“That’s a five-hundred-dollar coat crumpled on the floor,” he said, tossing the jacket onto his chair. “Next time you decide to crumple something, consider using your own.”

The moment it dimmed, I touched the space between icons to keep it from locking. Fuck invasion of privacy.

AAAAAHHHHHHHH

A ravenous hunger shook my muscles. In all the years I’d taught–as a TA in grad school, a resident in medical school, and as a professor—I’d never felt such sexual temptation. Ever. I’d been boldly propositioned by students, and endured their flirtations, but I’d always been very adept at ignoring it all. I’d never had any interest in my students, not even the ones who’d shown up to class wearing makeup and tight, revealing clothes, making eyes at me and leaving gifts. One even left a scrap of paper with a note to meet her in the library at a certain time.

But it was the audacity of this girl that crawled beneath my skin. The way she sat in my class with her wild hair that reminded me of autumn leaves, her mouthy comebacks, and those eyes. Bold, aquamarine eyes that constantly challenged me. Eyes

The light on her screen dimmed again, and I swiped it up, keeping it from locking. On a whim of absolute adrenaline, I sent the video to my phone, then clicked on her texts and deleted it permanently.

A wiser man would’ve kicked her out of his class and avoided the inevitable headache that was sure to follow. I’d certainly never professed to be the wisest.

I swiped out of the app and pulled up the number to my lawyer. Not only was he the best in the country, he happened to be a fellow Rook, so anything I asked of him, he would carry out immediately. And I wanted that video taken down, like, yesterday.

The video was no longer there. Smiling, I eased back in my seat. If she was that desperate for money, she’d have to find another way of getting it. I refused to let a whole population of swinging dicks ogle her. I’d fuck over every person who ever posted there and burn the site down before I’d let that happen.

“Yeah.” I watched him cross the yard, like a thunderstorm passing over the sky. That was the perfect way to describe him–ominous and foreboding, yet mesmerizing at the same time.

I’d been cornered by men before, terrified of them, but that wasn’t the case with Professor Bramwell. This almost felt like an invitation. A dare. Heart pounding in my chest, I gave a defiant tip of my chin. “Who am I fucking with?” His gaze fell to my lips in a way that felt too intimate. Too riveted to mistake the thoughts that must’ve been churning in his head right then. “It’s fascinating how you can be so meek and bold at the same time.” His

Exhaling a long breath, he slid into the opposite chair. “Perhaps you’re right. What the fuck can she do? Nothing.” He blew through the entire glass of liquor in one swill and slammed the glass down on my desk. “Fine. She stays. For now.”

It was then it occurred to me that I had just negotiated Lilia’s ability to remain enrolled. Hell if I knew why.

“Stay out of trouble, Curious Moth,” he said, as he strode for the door. Curious Moth. A nickname. A fitting one, too, given the fact that I had no intentions of avoiding the flame.

“That is the tragedy of women, isn’t it? We deny ourselves beauty for the sake of misleading men.”

The world around me turned silent, a dark galaxy spinning with a gravitational force that drew me closer. Every nerve kindled to life under his stare, and my skin prickled.

“I suppose it would. I couldn’t imagine being an insect. Pursued by so many dangerous things.” I dared a glance, and found him looking at my lips, where I’d reapplied the lipstick before leaving my dorm.

"Voulez-vous boire un verre, mademoiselle?"

“Je comprends. Et je décline votre offre.”

“The wealthy possess an insatiable appetite for the rare and priceless. They stare because you’re the only thing worth staring at.”

I didn’t want to go to Spencer, though. I wanted to stay there, with my professor, fighting to catch my breath. Beside me, the moths fluttered about, their movements mirroring the sensation in my stomach every time the man opened his mouth.

“Go, Miss Vespertine,” Professor Bramwell whispered, his proximity setting my nerves aflame. “You’re far too young to live a life without mistakes.” On those parting words, he strode off with an air of arrogance that made my knees weak.

A strange pull tugged at my chest. I couldn’t explain it. Even as abrasive as he was, I found him utterly captivating. Magnetic.

“And if you value your anatomy, I’d strongly advise you keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Dandridge.” With that, Professor Bramwell tossed his napkin onto the table and pushed to his feet.

I’d heard it, though. Professor Bramwell had threatened him. For me. In all of my twenty years, no one had ever stood up for me. No one had ever intervened on my behalf.

His dark chuckle tickled the back of my neck, and his eyes held a ruthless glint that slid through my bones. “My, you are a wicked little moth.”

He didn’t flinch beneath the accusation. “Don’t fuck with me, Miss Vespertine. You want to play hardball? Know that mine are made of steel.” “That sounds painful.”

The girl was a problem. An incredibly beautiful, but annoying, problem.

I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. Calling her beautiful was like calling the sun lukewarm. She’d blazed like the hottest part of a flame in that dress. And fuck me, I’d felt the heat.

Unrattled by his comments, I tipped my head. “What exactly are you accusing me of?” “Everyone at that table could damn near feel what was going on between the two of you.”

“I’ve a reputation as Doctor Death. Seems most would be frightened of me.” “I suppose. Though, I don’t find you all that frightening. Grouchy, but not frightening.”

“Here, I thought you liked studying moths, the way you carry on in your lectures.” “Depends on the moth I’m studying.” Eyes on me, he pushed to his feet, stumbling back a step.

Aahhh

The contemplative expression on his face twisted to a smirk. “And just how does that benefit you as a reader? A voyeur, essentially. You have no intimate connection with these fictional characters.” “Says who? I happen to get very attached to my fictional boyfriends.” Yet another frown. “Boyfriends?” “I read a lot.”

“Good luck.” It was clear from the way his lips twitched that he was holding back a smile. “To answer your question about why I didn’t leave you in the gardens that night, I find you to be an intriguing annoyance.” “I guess that’s appropriate, coming from a man I find to be brilliantly antisocial,” I quipped.

Now you can buy coffee whenever you like. –B

Curiosity and trepidation clashed his eyes, and he skated his palm down my cheek, pausing to rub his fingers together. His thumb caressed my bottom lip, and his hand moved to my hair again, where he let a strand slip through his fingers, eyes alight with fascination. “I feel you.”

We were rained in together. Alone. In the dungeon of the building. I was going to be sleeping over with Professor Bramwell. Doctor Death.

“On the bed. Now.” The deadly authority in his voice prodded something deep inside of me. Something that begged to be cracked open and cut loose. A flash of fantasy slipped through my mind, of him holding my throat, spouting off commands in that voice. “You’ll have to haul my dead rotting corpse there.” “I’m quite familiar with the task.” Lips tight, he bent forward and to my utter shock, slid his hands beneath me, lifting me up into his arms.

He lowered his gaze to where I’d grabbed him, staring down at it for a moment. It was then I noticed he had on nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that contained an exceptionally well-endowed package beneath. “Yes,” he said, and I couldn’t help taking in the whole of his physique.

“You’re a sickness inside of me that begs never to be cured. Infecting me with this unshakable craving for things I shouldn’t want.”

“And because I’m a selfish prick who has to live with the fact that I cannot have you to myself, I’m going to ruin you so that any boy who comes after me will leave you deeply unsatisfied, and you’ll be left fucking your own fingers, desperate to remember the time you had your professor’s face between your legs.”

OH MY GAWD

“Panties are for the modest,” he said with an air of disgust.

Bramwell was right. He’d ruined me. Destroyed me from the inside out, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d ever feel something so raw and thrilling and forbidden again.

“I don’t give a damn about every other girl. There’s only one who crosses my mind a fuck-ton more than she should. So, I’m going to finish you, Lilia. I’m going to give you the release you’ve been craving, and I won’t touch you again. But this pussy belongs to me. You let any other undeserving prick near it, and I will cut out his tongue and send it to you in a specimen jar.”