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View More4Sienna.By the time I left my apartment, I’d already decided I wasn’t going to class. Not today.I’d barely slept again, and when I did, I dreamed of Adrian. His mouth on me, his hands pinning me, the rough sound of my name on his lips. I woke up aching, wanting, restless in a way I hadn’t known was possible before him. I tried to ignore it, bury myself in textbooks and assignments, but every word blurred. I was too aware of my body, the aftershocks of what we’d done the night before echoing through me.My phone buzzed around noon.Adrian. Of course, he didn’t use my name.Just: “Off campus. That old park you like. Noon.”A thrill shot down my spine. I barely thought about what I was doing. I just threw on jeans, a loose t-shirt, sneakers. I brushed my hair, checked my face, told myself I wasn’t dressing up for him. But I was. I always was.I walked past my roommate, mumbled something about study group, and headed out. My heart pounded as I walked the few blocks off campus, hands sha
3 Sienna.I never liked faculty parties. They were always the same: polite smiles, the tinkle of ice in cheap glasses, everyone pretending to be more relaxed than they were. Usually, I just stuck to the edge of the room, looking busy with a drink, counting the minutes until I could leave. But tonight, I was painfully aware of every detail.Of him.Dr. Wolfe stood on the far side of the room, half-shaded by a cluster of staff and visiting alumni. Even with all those people between us, I could feel the way his gaze moved over me, searching for the smallest shift or the smallest slip. It made my skin tingle. I was in a black dress that hugged my hips, lips painted a deep red, hair tamed into careful waves that felt nothing like me.All night, I felt his eyes. When I laughed at something my advisor said. When I refilled my glass and tried not to spill. When I stood too close to a window, staring out at the university lawns, pretending not to notice him across the room.Every time I glance
2Sienna.I barely slept that night.It wasn’t guilt, not really. Not at first. The memories just wouldn’t leave me alone. I lay in bed, sheets twisted around my body, replaying every second in Dr. Wolfe’s office—how rough it was, how desperate, the way I’d gasped his name into the empty building, how I’d let him take me like I wasn’t scared of anything. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him again. His hands, his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against my neck. The look on his face when he finally let go.I didn’t want to forget. But by morning, doubt seeped in. What the hell was I doing?I kept my head down all day, moving through classes in a daze. People talked around me, but it was just noise. I barely touched my coffee. I was so sure everyone could see it on my face—what I’d done, what we’d done, that I’d crossed a line no one ever came back from.He didn’t call. He didn’t even look at me during the seminar. He just stood at the front of the room, all business as usual, his sh
EROTICA 1Sienna.It was after midnight, and I was still on campus, again.The corridors of the English Department building were deserted, all that fluorescent light washing everything sterile and ghostly. My heels clicked against the linoleum as I walked, the sound sharp in the empty hallway. I’d told myself all day that I wouldn’t go back to his office. I didn’t want to be that student… the one who couldn’t accept her grade, the one who cared too much. But here I was, gripping my annotated essay so tightly the edges curled.His office door was half-open. A streak of lamplight spilled into the hallway, and I could hear the low murmur of a jazz playlist from his laptop. Dr. Wolfe always played jazz when he was working late. I caught a glimpse of his profile—sharp jaw, reading glasses sliding halfway down his nose as he scrawled notes in a book.I hesitated. Slowly, I knocked once, then twice.He looked up.“Sienna.” His voice was low and rough, already tired. “It’s late. What are you
6Damien.Vivian called me at eight in the morning. Her tone was bright and brisk. “Do you mind taking Lila to the lake today? The contractor needs you to sign off on the stair rail and the tile. I can’t get out of the office.”I looked at my calendar. Meetings could move. “I’ll go.”“Take the SUV,”
5Tessa.The house feels empty in a way that should be peaceful, but it isn’t. It’s Friday night and Mom’s voice still rings in my ears—her cheerful “We’ll be back late! Don’t wait up!” as she bustled out the door with my stepdad for their first real date night in months. I should be glad for the s
5AmeliaGuilt is heavier than sin.It sits in my chest, dense and dark, every time I see my father’s eyes linger too long on my face. I feel it when I kneel at the altar, when I touch the hymnal, when I hear my mother’s gentle voice and think of everything I’ve let Nathan Carter do to me. When I wa
6Amelia.The church is different at midnight.It’s not just the emptiness, or the way the shadows grow longer and softer, spilling over marble floors and stained glass. It’s the silence—thicker, deeper, like it’s waiting for something to happen. I moved through the dark sanctuary, barefoot, my hear






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