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YOU'RE MINE NOW

Author: O.A PRESHY
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-25 03:58:56

AMARA POV

The music was too loud, the lights too bright, yet all I felt was him.

His body pressed close enough to remind me of who he was, but not enough to claim me, not yet. His hand that had brushed mine before was now firmer, steadying me as if he could sense I might fall, not just from the alcohol but from the way my knees weakened at his nearness.

I tilted my head back, blinking through my drowsy haze, and whispered, “Professor Sin?” My voice cracked between disbelief and longing.

He leaned closer, his breath fanning my ear, warm and sharp, sending shivers down my neck. “What are you doing here, Amara?” His tone was low, dangerous, like velvet covering a blade.

I should have pulled away. I should have remembered my mother’s warnings, Nina’s sneers, the way I was already drowning in chaos at home. But instead, I swayed against him, leaning closer, caught between the pulsing bass of the club and the steady thrum of his presence.

“I wanted to forget,” I murmured, my words clumsy from drink.

He chuckled, but it wasn’t kind. It was dark, edged with disapproval. “And you thought this,his fingers brushed the hem of my tiny dress, making me gasp as fire sparked across my skin, “was the answer?”

I froze, breath caught in my throat. His touch wasn’t indecent, not fully, but it was enough to make every nerve in my body scream awake. My thighs clenched, a wetness pooling inside me that I had never felt this strong before.

“I…” My voice failed me.

He tilted my chin upward with two fingers, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were sharper here, away from the classroom, more sinful, more real. “Do you know what you’re doing, Amara?”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, the words falling out before I could stop them.

His jaw tightened, his body towering over me like a wall I couldn’t escape from, even if I wanted to. Around us, people danced, laughed, drank, but it was like the world had vanished, leaving only me and him in this corner of shadows.

“You should care,” he muttered, and his fingers traced along my jawline, down to the hollow of my throat. My pulse hammered so loud I swore he could feel it beneath his touch. “You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with them.” His eyes flicked to the crowd, then back to me. “But you keep testing me, don’t you?”

My lips parted, but no words came. His touch burned through me, restrained yet deliberate, as if he wanted me to remember every inch of where his fingers had been.

When his hand slid from my chin to hover just at the curve of my waist, I shivered. “Professor…”

The way the word fell off my tongue sounded nothing like school. Nothing like innocence.

Something flickered in his eyes, something raw. He leaned closer, his lips so close to mine that if I moved even a fraction, they’d meet. “If you knew the things I think about when you say that…” His whisper trailed off, hot against my mouth.

My breath hitched. Heat swarmed through my body, every inch aching for him to close the distance.

But then, as if he read my mind, he pulled back suddenly. His grip on my waist tightened just enough to steady me, but his gaze turned cold. “You’re drunk. This isn’t happening.”

The rejection stung sharper than I expected. “Why?” The word slipped out, fragile.

“Because,” he said, his voice rough, “you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

And before I could argue, he dragged me away from the dance floor. People glanced at us, but no one stopped him. No one ever stopped him. He had that presence, commanding, untouchable.

Outside, the air was cooler, sobering me a little. He guided me to his car, opening the door with a sigh that sounded more like frustration than pity.

“Get in.”

I obeyed, sliding into the leather seat, my heart still racing. He closed the door behind me and went around to the driver’s side. When he sat down, the silence was heavier than the music had been inside.

We didn’t move. Not at first. He gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for me again.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he finally asked, his voice low but fierce.

“Because nothing makes sense anymore,” I said, my throat tight. “At home, I’m the villain. Nina plays the angel, and I’m the monster. My mom believes her. Everyone sees me as the problem. But with you…” I trailed off, unsure if I had gone too far.

His hands tightened on the wheel. “With me?”

I swallowed hard. “With you, I feel.. like I can breathe.”

The air shifted. I felt his eyes on me, burning, searching. For a moment, I thought he’d reach for me again. My body leaned toward him without permission, desperate for more of his touch, his warmth, his sin.

But he only exhaled sharply, starting the engine. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Amara.”

“Why not?”

“Because one day,” he muttered, pulling onto the road, “I might not be able to stop myself.”

The car ride was silent after that, but inside me everything screamed. Every second, I replayed the ghost of his touch, the heat of his breath on my skin, the words he’d left hanging in the air.

When we reached my street, he parked a few houses away. “Go inside quietly. Don’t let anyone see you like this.”

I nodded, fumbling with the handle, but before I could step out, his hand shot out and caught my wrist.

I froze.

He leaned closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. His voice dropped to a whisper that wrapped around my soul. “You don’t know it yet, Amara, but you’re playing with fire. And fire always burns.”

Then he let go. Just like that.

I stumbled out, my legs weak, sneaking back into my room through the window. My heart was still pounding as I collapsed on the bed, dress still clinging to me, his touch still lingering like a brand on my skin.

Sleep didn’t come easy. When it did, it was filled with him..his hands, his voice, his almost-kiss.

And when I finally woke, sunlight streaming into my room, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

A message.

From an unknown number.

I blinked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and read the words.

“YOU'RE MINE NOW, MY LITTLE DOVE.

My breath caught. My body shivered. And I knew exactly who it was.

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  • PROFESSOR SIN    CAUGHT

    AMARA'S POV I couldn’t sleep.All night I kept rolling on my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the heat on my skin. Professor Black’s hand had landed again and again. The memory came back in flashes, the sound of his voice, sharp and heavy with command, the heat that spread through me, the way my body betrayed me with every strike.It was wrong. I knew it. But every time I closed my eyes, I wanted it again.I pressed a pillow to my face and groaned, half in shame, half in need. My cheeks burned hot, and my thighs pressed tight together. The voice in my head scolded me..you’re sick, you’re shameless but another voice whispered back, he made you feel alive, he made you feel wanted.I hated myself for it. And yet I wanted more.I thought of the way he looked at me when I bent over his desk. His eyes dark, full of something I couldn’t name. That look alone kept my heart racing hours later.I turned on my side, hugging my pillow, whispering into the darkness, “I want you… I want you, e

  • PROFESSOR SIN    USE YOUR FINGERS, MY LITTLE DOVE

    AMARA'S POVMy breath caught the second the words left his mouth.“On the table. Spread your legs.”His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was sharp, deep, final.I felt my knees shake, but I moved. I climbed onto the cold surface of his desk, the wood pressing against my thighs. My fingers shook as I pulled my skirt higher, my whole body burning with shame.I parted my legs slowly, my chest heaving. My heart was beating so loud I swore it echoed in the quiet room.Professor Black leaned back in his chair, his gaze heavy, eating me alive.“Wider. Spread your legs, little dove.”The name made me shiver. My thighs trembled as I pushed them apart. I wasn’t wearing panties. The air hit me and I sucked in a sharp breath.He smirked. He had known. Of course, I asked for this.“Good girl,” he murmured. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t move closer. Instead, he stayed where he was, his hands resting in his pockets, watching me with those dark eyes that stripped me bare.I thought he was

  • PROFESSOR SIN    MY LITTLE TEMPTRESS

    PROFESSOR'S BLACK POV I told myself it would end yesterday.I told myself I would not be weak again.But all night, she was there in my head. The sound of her breath when I pressed her against my desk. The heat in her eyes when she whispered she wanted me. I hardly slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her skirt pushed up, her body begging.By morning, I was angry at myself. Angry at her. Angry at the fact that a student, a girl half my age, had gotten under my skin.I tried to bury myself in work, in lecture notes, in anything. But every word I wrote twisted back to her. I opened the drawer of my desk once, then slammed it shut instantly. Her panties were still there. A reminder. A trophy. A curse.I've always been a fucker, from the club to my office, I had tons of them whore, lining, waiting for my call but this one girl…just this one girl…“Amara…” her name sprang from my mouth. She definitely got me hooked.***************By the time the lecture started, I swore I would not

  • PROFESSOR SIN    PERFECT PRETENCE

    AMARA'S POV Her eyes roam all-over me with disdain before she masks it with her perfect smile. Always acting innocent, and that's what I hate about her.Nina.She stood with her little group of perfect friends. The moment their eyes landed on me, they went silent. Then one of them laughed, pointing right at me.“Wow, look at this! Amara actually trying to be sexy? What happened, did someone finally fuck you?”The others burst out laughing.Another girl leaned close to Nina, pretending to whisper but loud enough for me to hear. “Guess she’s just a bitch after all.”The laughter got louder, and my heart sank.“Stop it, guys,” Nina said, putting on her soft voice, the one that always fooled everyone. She even gave me a sad little look. “She’s my sister…”But her lips curled. I caught the smile she was hiding, the way her shoulders shook from holding back her own laugh.One of her friends tilted her head, eyes full of mock pity. “Who’s even going to touch her? Maybe the school cleaners.

  • PROFESSOR SIN    PUNISHMENT

    AMARA’S POVThe room was too quiet.I stood there, my hands clutching my skirt, heart thudding so loud I thought he could hear it.Professor Black didn’t say a word at first. He just sat behind his desk, his sharp eyes burning holes through me. I wanted to look away, but my body wouldn’t obey. It was like his gaze chained me in place.Then he finally spoke. His voice was low, firm, cutting straight through me.“Shut the door, Amara.”I swallowed hard and did as he said. My hands shook on the handle before I clicked it shut. The sound echoed in the silence. I turned back to him slowly, feeling my chest rise and fall in uneven breaths.“Come here,” he ordered.My legs felt weak, but they moved anyway. Step by step, I walked toward him. Every inch closer made my skin hotter. When I reached the front of his desk, he leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was prey caught in his trap.“You enjoy testing me, don’t you?” he asked. His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile

  • PROFESSOR SIN    TEMPTRESS

    AMARA’S POVSleep didn’t come easy that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him, Professor Black. The sharpness of his jaw when he leaned close, the heat in his stare when he held my panties between his fingers, and then… that smirk. The smirk that cut me deeper than any words. He’d dismissed me, sent me away as though I was nothing more than a child playing at desire.I pulled my blanket tighter around me, but it didn’t shield me from the memory. Instead, it only made me ache more. My body still trembled at the thought of his voice, hoarse and low, telling me what to do. My legs squeezed shut under the covers, ashamed at how wet I had been in his office, how wet I still was thinking about it.Rejection was supposed to make you feel small. Embarrassed. Broken.And yes, I felt all of that. I couldn’t forget the humiliation of standing there half-undone, offering myself, only for him to turn away. But under that humiliation, another feeling was blooming, wild and electric.Defianc

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