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100 + EIGHT: You're Mine
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2025-12-15 01:00:59I swallow thickly as I cross the room to land in front of him. His hands find my hips and I forget how to breathe.
“And uh—” I clear my throat. “In the not-so-immediate sense?” I whisper.Professor Harlan takes my chin between his fingers, lifting my head so I am forced to meet his eyes. “Are you worried I’ll leave you again?” His voice is low and gravelly.My eyelashes flutter, and I do not know what to say.“No,” he purrs. “I’m not going anywhere. You already know that you’re mine.”His hands trail upward. The moment they encase my ribcage is the same moment I know I am a lost cause. My eyes flutter shut. And everything else is gone.He captures my mouth, drawing me in, arms encircling my body. My breath hitches, my mind melts, and the only sensation that enraptures me as much as the kiss is the feeling of every nerve in my body standing on end, sparking within my skin.He grips me tighter. I claw at his collar, pressing him equally as hard against me.
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SUBMISSION 101 100 + ELEVEN: The End
At first I can't even process what he just said to me. It does not hit me for a few full seconds. But when it does, it comes with the force of a sack-full of bricks, and suddenly I feel winded. “I… are you serious?” I ask. “Me?” “Who else?” he muses. He has that look in his eye; the same one I see a thousand times before, the same one I fall in love with a long time ago. Amusement. Interest. Challenge. He eyes me like the question does not benefit him but instead it is meant for me. Ever the analyzer Professor Harlan grins as he watches me put the pieces together, watches me come to the conclusion. “Professor Harlan, I just said I cannot commit to any jobs or grad programs right now.” “You wouldn’t have to,” he tells me, taking my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks a little. “It’s a permanent position. You have all the time in the world to decide.” His face lowers toward mine. I stop breathing. “We have all the time in the world.”
SUBMISSION 101 100 + TEN: That Ship Has Long Sailed
SIX MONTHS LATER A year and a half ago, I never would have thought that my former English Literature professor would be my plus one. To literally any function. I never imagined I would live to see that day. But there I am; a year and a half after he asked me to stay behind after class on a fated fall afternoon. We stand toward the back of the crowd as Milo and Jax walk hand-in-hand down the ivory rug that stretches from the door of the venue all the way to a Deep Dodge Cherokee. Jax’s doing, no doubt. “Just Married” is written sloppily on the rear window. Empty beer cans are tied to the back of the vehicle. I hold up a sparkler in my hand, as do almost all of the other wedding guests. Professor Harlan stands there emptyhanded but peaceful. His face is gentle and soft. Miles away from where he was when I first met him. Over the past six months I have been able to put some distance between myself and the university. It is a risk taking him to the wedding,
SUBMISSION 101 100 + NINE: Promise
In the next instant he releases me only long enough to stand, gripping me by the arm to force me to my feet. I gasp as I land against his chest where he holds me snug and tight. I can feel his heart hammering against mine. And I am melting beneath his grip.He releases me with one hand only to trail the hem of my panties. “You’re mine,” he reminds me. “I think I need to be sure the message sinks in.” He pulls away, studying my face. And he quirks a brow. Condescending. The only man I know who can wear that infuriating expression deliciously.My eyes are wide, but I nod.Professor Harlan takes a step back, letting his eyes trail down the entire length of my body before they make their way back up again, drinking in every inch of my exposed skin. “Bra.” The command is incomplete but perfectly clear.I slip my arms behind my back to relieve myself of the garment.He nods to my panties. Excitement mounts within my belly, the sensation sudden and overtaking. I slip th
SUBMISSION 101 100 + EIGHT: You're Mine
I swallow thickly as I cross the room to land in front of him. His hands find my hips and I forget how to breathe.“And uh—” I clear my throat. “In the not-so-immediate sense?” I whisper.Professor Harlan takes my chin between his fingers, lifting my head so I am forced to meet his eyes. “Are you worried I’ll leave you again?” His voice is low and gravelly.My eyelashes flutter, and I do not know what to say.“No,” he purrs. “I’m not going anywhere. You already know that you’re mine.”His hands trail upward. The moment they encase my ribcage is the same moment I know I am a lost cause. My eyes flutter shut. And everything else is gone.He captures my mouth, drawing me in, arms encircling my body. My breath hitches, my mind melts, and the only sensation that enraptures me as much as the kiss is the feeling of every nerve in my body standing on end, sparking within my skin.He grips me tighter. I claw at his collar, pressing him equally as hard against me.
SUBMISSION 101 100 + SEVEN: You Came Back
“I wonder how things will change for me. When you’ve left this place. When you’ve moved on, and all I have left of you is the memory of you walking these very cobblestone streets.”Mid-motion, I stop, halting my mug of coffee just before it meets my lips, quirking my brow at Armitage. “We’re feeling very dramatic today, aren’t we?” I muse.Armitage leans back in his chair, staring up at the sky. I watch the steam from his tea curl up into the air and lick the sides of his jaw. “I’ve been getting back into Jane Austen.”“Ah,” I reply. “There it is. Why are you even thinking about that? It’s barely even November. Graduation is practically eons away.”“I don’t know,” he muses. “I guess your sacking from the Bulletin got the wheels turning about your inevitable departure.”“Okay. First of all; I wasn’t sacked. I resigned.”“Preemptively.”“Second of all,” I continue, ignoring him, “when I’m finally out of here, your life is probably going to get a hell of a l
SUBMISSION 101 100 + SIX: How Dare You?!
Everything that happens next is an eruption. Bazine’s jaw falling open is the last moment of peace before the blow comes; “what?!” she screeches, standing up and fuming so forcefully Professor Harlan can almost see smoke pouring from her ears.“Miss Netal, I suggest you say nothing further.” The attorney snaps the binder shut and flies to his feet, shoving his notes back into his briefcase as if they too are now incriminating.“How dare you!”“Is this on record?” asks the secretary, scribbling furiously into her notes.“Don’t write another fucking thing,” Bazine snaps.The secretary stands too, holding her notes closely to her chest, bless her, glaring at Bazine from across the room. “That’s against protocol.”Everyone is on their feet, everyone arguing, hollering across the room. Everyone except Professor Harlan. Professor Harlan, who sits calmly at the head of the table. Professor Harlan, who clasps his hands atop the surface, staring at them as if doing so
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