"Spread your legs and use your hands, my little dove," his voice was rough, a dark whisper that curled into my skin. My body trembled, traitorous, yet I obeyed..because I never resisted him. I couldn’t. Even when his words bound me tighter than any rope, even when shame burned my cheeks, my fingers still moved at his command. I'm Amara Blake. At home, I’m nothing. The unwanted daughter. The mistake forced to live in her sister’s shadow. A living Donor. A spare part to my sister. Scorned by my mother, hated by my father, reminded daily that my only worth is keeping myself “pure” for Nina’s sake. But with him… purity doesn’t exist. Professor Black doesn’t see me as a burden. He sees me as temptation. A secret waiting to be ruined. Every time I walk into his office, I feel the weight of his gaze…hungry, dangerous, claiming. I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t crave the way his voice curls against my skin like a promise of sin. But I do. And when his hands finally touch me, I realize one truth…I’m no angel. I was made to burn. MY PROFESSOR SIN
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His hand slid up my thigh, firm and unyielding, dragging heat along my skin. I sucked in a shaky breath as his broad frame hovered over me, shadow swallowing me whole. Roman Black’s mouth was at my ear, his voice low, sinful, the kind that made every nerve in my body bend to him. “Do you know what you do to me, Amara?” God, the way his hips pressed down against mine, the way his chest pinned me to the desk, claiming every inch of me like I already belonged to him. My fingers curled tight, desperate to hold on to something real. His scent was leather and mint, intoxicating, and I swore if he moved any closer, I’d dissolve under him. His thumb stroked my waist, slow, deliberate, leaving fire burn through me. My body arched on instinct, craving more, begging for more. His lips dragged over my neck, rough stubble scraping against tender skin, and I couldn’t stop the shiver that ripped through me. I gasped when he pushed harder into me, that heavy weight grinding against me, my heart slamming against my ribs like it might tear out. My thighs trembled. My pulse stuttered. The sound slipped out before I could swallow it back. A moan. Soft. Barely there. But it was enough. I jolted back to myself at once. I pressed my legs tightly together. The desk in front of me. My notebook open. My pen in my hand. The dull scratch of chalk against the board. My chest rose and fell too quickly as reality hit me like a bucket of ice water. Beside me, the girl with curly hair nudged my elbow, biting back a smirk, her brows raised like she’d just caught me in something scandalous. Heat rushed in my face. I dropped my gaze to the page, bowing my head as if the words there could open and swallow me whole. When I dared to lift my eyes again, He was there. Roman Black. Standing at the front of the class, sleeves rolled up, voice like whiskey poured neat, smooth and dangerous. His gaze swept across the room like he a bear searching for his prey. And then it found me. Something twisted in my stomach. Not butterflies. Something I can't seem to place my hands on . Gosh I'm done for. I tore my eyes away, pretending to study the syllabus, but my body betrayed me, every nerve locked onto the way his voice wrapped around certain words, low and heavy, like when he said intimacy. He didn’t flirt. He warned. With nothing more than his presence. By the end of class, I was the last still lingering, shoving papers into my bag. I told myself it was an accident. It wasn’t. “Miss…” His voice cut through the quiet, low and commanding. “Blake,” I offered, throat dry, pulse hammering. “Stay a moment.” I did. Because maybe I was stupid. Or reckless. Or just lonely enough to want to hear what he’d say next. He moved closer. Not touching. But close enough that I could breathe in the mint of his coat. Power radiated off him, slow, heavy, deliberate. “You’ve read ahead,” he said quietly. “Your eyes gave you away during the discussion. Tell me… did you agree with the ending?” I swallowed hard. “No.” “Why not?” My gaze lifted, caught by his. Storm-dark. Controlled. Dangerous. “Because I don’t believe people walk away when they’re burning,” I whispered. His jaw flexed, something unspoken flashing through his expression, intrigue, surprise or something darker. The silence stretched, dangerous, almost suffocating. “You should go,” he said finally, stepping back. But as I turned, his voice followed, low and rough, not meant for me to hear: “Curious little thing.” And God help me… I smiled. ****************************** I walked out into the fading light of late afternoon, heart pounding in my throat. The campus buzzed with life, but I felt strangely apart from it. Like I was on a different planet, orbiting alone. Then I heard it. “Oh my God, is that your outfit, Amara?” Laughter. High-pitched. Cruel. I stiffened. A group of girls stood by the fountain …hair glossy, lips painted, laughter sharp as razors. I knew them. Everyone did. They were the daughters of senators, CEOs, ministers. Girls who smiled sweetly in selfies and spat poison the second the camera clicked off. The elite. The untouchables. They called themselves Sassy. God knows why. And in the middle of them, like a rose among thorns, was my sister. Nina. Her arms were crossed, an awkward smile curling her lips. “Guys, stop. She’s just…you know. Quiet.” One of them snorted. “Quiet? Or invisible?” Another chimed in. “Or just poor.” The words sliced through me like cold glass. Nina glanced over and caught my eye. Her smile faltered, not with guilt. With embarrassment. She always hated being reminded we were sisters. I shifted my gaze away, willing the sting in my eyes to fade. My fingers tightened on the strap of my bag. “Are you walking home?” one of the girls called. They already knew the answer. Nina stepped forward suddenly, her voice too loud. “You want a ride, Amara?” It was performative. A spotlight offer. One she knew I’d never take. Not in front of her friends. Not when they were already laughing. I shook my head without looking back. “I’m fine.” “Suit yourself,” someone muttered, smirking. Behind me, I heard the purr of an engine, Nina’s driver pulling up in her sleek, air-conditioned car. She always got picked up. I always walked. Twins, some used to think. But we were nothing alike. She lived in the sun. I crawled through her shadows. ****************************** The walk home was quiet. But inside me, it wasn’t. Every footstep echoed like a warning, every gust of wind curled around my bare neck like horror. My thoughts drifted back to Professor Black, the way his voice dropped when he spoke to me, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. The way he looked at me, not like a man looks at a girl. Like a beast recognizing something it wants to devour. You’ve read ahead, Your eyes gave you away. My chest tightened. My heart beating fast. No one ever noticed that about me. Not even Nina. But he did. And that made him dangerous. I adjusted my backpack, picking up my pace. My legs were starting to ache, and the neighborhood around me began to change, buildings cracked, air colder, windows darker. Home wasn’t far now. Unfortunately. I crossed the street, hands trembling, my heartbeat rising with each step. My feet slowed, even though I tried to will them forward. The closer I got, the heavier everything became. My breath sounded loud in my ears. My legs wobbled. My hands trembled against the strap of my bag. My mind screamed at me to turn back. But I couldn’t. I never could. Home wasn’t a place. It was a warning. And tonight, like every other night, I’d have to face it. **************** The metal gate creaked open. I offered the gateman a small smile as I stepped through. “Good evening, sir,” I mumbled. He nodded, gaze flicking toward the long driveway behind me. Luxurious cars lined the front, imported, polished. Among them, Nina’s black Benz gleamed under the porch light. She was already home. Of course she was. Our parents were wealthy. Painfully so. But money doesn’t buy warmth. Or answers. Or the smallest explanation for why I was treated like furniture in my own house. I walked slowly toward the entrance, each step feeling like a countdown. Ten steps. Nine. Eight I gripped the edge of my shirt with one hand, chest tightening. Six, Five, I closed my eyes at the doorstep. Just for a moment. To prepare. Three. Two. I opened the door. And stepped into hell. The first words that hit me were sharp, careless, echoing from the hallway: “The doctor said we have to get the surgery done soon. This can’t wait.” Then came a voice even colder. “And who’s going to break the news to Her? Her?” Her. I didn’t even need to ask who her was.MRS BLAKE’S POVThe doctor’s report on Nina’s health was still in my hands.I had read the lines over and over again, hoping they would change .. hoping maybe I was mistaken.But the truth stared right at me in bold letters.Nina might look strong, but her kidneys were failing… slowly, quietly, like a candle dying in the dark.My hands clenched around the paper, crumpling it a little. Across from me, Blake sat silent … his eyes fixed on nothing, his face calm as though the world hadn’t just fallen apart. That calmness made my chest burn with anger.“You aren’t saying anything, Blake,” I muttered, my voice low but sharp.He looked up, sighing. “What do you want me to say, Lucy?”The way he said it ..like none of this mattered …made me snap.“That’s all you have to say?” I spat, slamming the report on the table. “Our daughter’s health is failing, and you’re sitting there like it’s another normal day! We have just a few months to find her a donor!”He didn’t respond. His jaw moved slight
NINA’S POV“Delete it… or I’ll make sure you disappear before morning.”His voice was cold. Sharp enough to slice through my breath. Then the line went dead.For a moment, I just stood there, frozen, my phone still pressed to my ear.I wanted to ignore the threat. To pretend it didn’t scare me. But it did.Because from the very first time I saw Professor Black in the office that day, I knew..he wasn’t ordinary.He had this darkness that made even silence feel dangerous.And now, his words kept echoing in my head, crawling under my skin.But how could I delete the only evidence I had?That photo was my weapon. My power. The only thing tying him and Amara together—and the only way I could control them both.I remember how I got it.It wasn’t planned. None of this was.Yesterday, after walking out on that annoying nanny, Paula, I’d gone outside. I was halfway through the gate when I saw a shadow moving toward Amara’s room window. At first, I thought I was imagining things.But the shape
PROFESSOR BLACK POV“Next time, watch where you’re pushing someone to. Not everyone can handle the fall.”The words left my mouth before I even realized it. The laughter that followed from the students hit me like a slap.And then I saw her face..hurt, confused, her lips trembling as if she was trying to hold herself together.Damn it. That wasn’t how it was supposed to sound.I wanted to reach for her, to tell her I didn’t mean it that way. But I couldn’t..not there, not in front of everyone.So I stood there, hands in my pockets, pretending not to care as I watched her run out.When she disappeared, I finally let out a quiet curse under my breath.I was heading toward the staff exit when a hand caught my arm. I turned fast, instinctively dodging the punch that came at me.It was the janitor. His face was red with anger, his grip hard on my collar.“I told you not to hurt her, you devil!” he shouted, shaking me.I stared at him, silent. He wanted me to react, to fight back. Instead,
AMARA'S POV“Next time, watch where you’re pushing someone to. Not everyone can handle the fall.”His voice cut through the air..cold, sharp, and mocking. Laughter erupted around me, stabbing harder than any blade could.He wasn’t defending me. He was mocking me.Professor Black.The one person I thought..just maybe…would see through the lies, through the mess, through me. The one person I thought understood me and my plight.But no… I was wrong.The laughter grew louder. I could feel their eyes burning into my skin, their whispers slicing me open. My chest tightened as I tried to hold it together. My chin trembled, but I bit down on it to stop the tears from falling. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. I wouldn’t let them see me break.Still, something inside me cracked.I thought I was strong enough to endure anything, but the truth was… I was just tired. So tired.My hands were shaking, my heart pounding so fast it hurt. If I stayed another second, I’d crumble right here. So I
AMARA'S POVThe morning rays shone directly into my eyes, forcing me to squint. I groaned and turned away, but it was too late .. I was awake.Weird. I was sure I slept on the floor last night. But here I was, tucked comfortably in bed. For a second, I froze. Then I remembered the dream .. Professor Black, sitting beside me, soothing me to sleep.I chuckled quietly. “I must be losing my mind,” I whispered to myself. Dreaming about him? In my room? That’s a new level of crazy.Dragging myself out of bed, I passed the mirror and I froze.For a long second, I just stood there, staring at the girl looking back at me.The girl staring back at me didn’t even look alive. My hair was a mess, tangled in every direction. My eyes were swollen with dark circles beneath them, and my skin looked pale and tired. I looked lifeless… or maybe I was. I told myself I wouldn’t let them get to me anymore, that their words and actions wouldn’t hurt…but it still did. It hurt so damn much.A lump rose in my
NINA'S POVHe leaned forward and my heart beat quickened.For a second I thought this was it … that I finally had him, that I’d wrapped my plans around him and could pull him close. I closed my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine. The kiss I’d been dreaming of. The club’s light threw colors across his face and everything in me expected the moment to crack open into something I’d remembered in secret.Instead, I heard it .. a low, cold chuckle.My eyes flew open, confusion spreading through me. That smile on his face.. it wasn’t warm. It was mocking. “A bitch will always be a bitch,” he said, voice sharp as a blade.Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing hard. My breath caught, panic flooding my chest as I clawed weakly at his hand.And just as suddenly, he let go.He let go as if the moment meant nothing to him, and the release almost hurt more. He didn’t give me space to think. He kept going…words like knives, quiet but full of poison. “You think too
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