All Chapters of My Professor's Dirty Little Secret: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Dalton POV—I shook my head, closing the distance slightly. “No. I can’t leave you like this. I won’t. Not while I still have a chance to make things right.”The rain ran into my eyes, and the mud clung to my shoes, slowing me down, but I kept moving, desperate to reach her. She’s right there, just a few feet away, soaked and shivering but still running, still defiant. I had to reach her. I had to make her understand that I wasn’t leaving, not until she knew everything, or at least until I tried.Her pace slowed slightly as she reached a small clearing, the storm battering her from every angle. She stopped, chest heaving, and turned just enough to glare at me. The anger in her eyes burned brighter than the storm, the hurt cutting deeper than the wind.“You think yelling at me is going to fix this?” she spat, rain dripping from her hair onto her face. “You think chasing me like this shows you care? It doesn’t. It just… it makes me hate you more!”I froze for a second, my chest tight,

Dalton POV—I smiled faintly, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face. “Now… we stop pretending we don’t belong here.”Her answer came in another kiss, deeper this time, more certain. The kind that left no room for questions. My pulse quickened, the warmth between us growing until I couldn’t tell where my breath ended and hers began.My fingers wrapped around her core. My thumb swirled around her clit, causing her to shudder and moan into my lips.We moved without thinking, guided by instinct and memory, each touch familiar yet entirely new. My hands slid up her back, her fingers tracing the scar on my shoulder as if grounding me in the moment.Her shirt clung to her, the faintest tremor in her breath giving her away as I cupped her face again, kissing her like it was the first time all over again.My fingers dug deeper, one then two inside her. Pressing against her walls, and rocking against her nerves.When we finally pulled apart, her forehead rested against mine, our breaths

Dalton POV—I met her eyes, a softness there she’d never seen before. “Now it’s a reminder that I survived long enough to find you.”Sloane didn’t speak. She just leaned up and kissed me again, her heart aching in the best way. My hands found her hips, drawing her closer until she could feel the slow rhythm of my breathing. Everything about me was careful, patient, my touch reverent, my body an unspoken promise.We didn’t rush. We didn’t need to. It was as though every brush of skin, every shared breath, was enough to fill the space where words used to live.When my lips found hers again, the world outside disappeared, the storm that had carried us here, the secrets between us, the rules we’d both broken. There was only this.And when I whispered her name against her neck, she felt something inside her shift.Love wasn’t supposed to feel this terrifying, this consuming. But it did.When we finally sank into one another completely, it wasn’t out of lust or rebellion, it was out of rec

Dalton POV—I’d stayed late for a mandatory meeting. Came home around eleven. The lights in our bedroom were on, warm, golden, like everything was normal. I remember smiling as I loosened my tie, thinking maybe she’d waited up for once.Then I walked into the room.Her legs tangled in someone else’s. My hands on her skin. My bed.My bed.For a second, my mind refused to register it. It was like watching a movie in slow motion, detached, unreal. Then she turned her head and saw me. And instead of guilt or fear or shame… she smiled.“Still wanna be with me now, cuck?”Her words hit harder than anything I’d ever felt. Cruel. Measured. Like she wanted to destroy me.I didn’t yell. I didn’t throw anything. I just… walked over to the dresser, grabbed a shirt and my keys, and told her to get the hell out. She screamed that I was “overreacting,” that I’d “driven her to it,” but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.When she left that night, she took more than her clothes. She took every ounce of trus

Vanessa POV—For years, I had lived a life I had never imagined I could have: married to Dalton, completely in love, finally feeling a sense of normalcy and joy that had eluded me for my entire childhood. The early days had been blissful, unbroken by the shadows of my father’s relentless expectations. Every morning, Dalton’s presence reminded me that I was more than a tool or a pawn, that I was simply me.Our home was small but filled with laughter, warmth, and small rituals that made life feel like something I had actually chosen. I could almost forget the mansion, the cold dinners, the hollow praise I had grown up with. Here, I was safe. Here, I could love and be loved without fear.But Evan never forgot.He was furious that his daughter had dared to be happy on my own terms, that I had chosen a man he had never sanctioned. And he had the power to make my life a nightmare. It started subtly at first, cryptic notes slipped under my door, messages that suggested he knew where I was,