Chapter 6

Sarah

I step out of my car, the cool evening air nipping at my skin as I scan the dimly lit parking lot. My heart skips a beat when I spot a familiar figure leaning against a black truck.

Dr. Lucas Morgan stands there, his piercing grey eyes fixed on me. I swallow hard, my gaze tracing the tousled strands of his dark hair, down to where his crisp white shirt is rolled up at the sleeves. My fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch those exposed forearms.

"Dr. Morgan," I say, cursing the slight tremor in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

He pushes off the truck, closing the distance between us with smooth, powerful strides. My pulse quickens with each step he takes. "Sarah," he says, his deep voice wrapping around me like velvet. "I wanted to make sure you got to the library safely."

I blink, surprised by his thoughtfulness. "That's... very kind of you, but I'm perfectly capable of walking across campus on my own."

A shadow passes over his face. "I know you are. But with your ex around, I didn't want to take any chances."

The mention of Mark sends a chill through me, and I wrap my arms around myself. Lucas's brow furrows, and he takes a half-step closer. The warmth radiating from his body makes me want to lean into him.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I need to know you're safe."

There's something in his voice, a raw honesty that makes my defenses crumble. I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat.

We begin walking across the campus. I find my eyes drawn to him again and again - the strong line of his jaw, the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. Each time I look away, I have to resist the urge to look back.

"So," I finally break the silence, desperate for a distraction from my wandering thoughts, "how did your morning classes go?"

He looks at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. My stomach does a little flip. "They went well. Though I must admit, I was a bit distracted."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, heat creeping up my neck. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

His eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly it's hard to breathe. "You could say that," he murmurs.

We're approaching the library now. As we near the entrance, a student rushes out, not looking where he's going. Before I can react, Lucas's arm is around my waist, pulling me against him. The student stumbles past, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is the firm press of Lucas's body against mine, the strength in the arm holding me close.

"Are you alright?" Lucas asks, his breath warm against my ear.

I nod, hyperaware of every point where our bodies touch. "Yes, thank you," I manage to say, my voice barely audible.

He releases me slowly, his hand lingering at the small of my back. The loss of contact leaves me feeling oddly bereft.

We enter the library. Lucas leads me to a private study room he's reserved, and as the door closes behind us, I feel a shift in the air, as if we've entered our own private world.

The room is small but cozy, with a large oak table dominating the space. A single window offers a view of the darkening sky outside. Lucas gestures for me to take a seat, and I do, setting my bag on the table.

"So," he says, settling into the chair across from me, "tell me about your project ideas."

I take a deep breath, pushing aside the butterflies in my stomach, and launch into an explanation of my research on the flipped classroom model. As I speak, I notice how intently Lucas listens, his eyes never leaving my face. He nods encouragingly, asking insightful questions that make me think deeper about my approach.

His undivided attention sends a thrill through me. The way he leans in, hanging on my every word, makes me feel valued and respected. But more than that, it's undeniably sexy. The intensity in his gaze, the sharp intelligence behind his questions, it all combines to make my heart race and my skin tingle with awareness.

"That's a fascinating angle," he says when I finish. "Have you considered incorporating elements of gamification to increase student engagement?"

I blink, surprised by the suggestion. "I hadn't, actually. That's brilliant!"

He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that reaches his eyes. "You're the brilliant one, Sarah. Your passion for this subject is evident."

I feel a blush creeping up my neck. "Thank you," I say softly. "It means a lot to hear that from you."

I can't help but compare this to my experiences with Mark. Where Mark would have dismissed my ideas or tried to take credit for them, Lucas builds on them, challenging me to think in new ways.

As we continue working, I find myself leaning in closer, drawn to Lucas like a magnet. The scent of his cologne – a subtle mix of pine and something uniquely him – fills my senses, making it hard to concentrate.

When he reaches across the table to point out a passage in my notes, his forearm brushes against my hand. A jolt of electricity races up my arm, and I have to suppress a shiver.

"Are you cold?" Lucas asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

"No, I'm fine," I manage, my voice a bit breathier than usual.

He nods, but I notice his eyes linger on me a moment longer before returning to the work at hand. As he explains a complex concept, I find my gaze drawn to his lips, watching the way they form each word. I catch myself wondering what they would feel like against my skin.

Suddenly aware of my wandering thoughts, I force my attention back to my notes. But my eyes betray me, sneaking glances at the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders as he leans over the table.

When our eyes meet, the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. Heat blooms in my cheeks, spreading down my neck. I shift in my chair, crossing and uncrossing my legs, trying to quell the warmth building low in my belly.

Voices drift in from the hallway, reminding me of the thin barrier between us and the rest of the campus. Anyone could walk by, could see us through the small window in the door. The thought doesn't alarm me; rather, it heightens every sensation, making me hyperaware of Lucas's presence.

I lean in closer, ostensibly to point out something in my notes. Lucas's cologne envelops me, and I have to fight the urge to close my eyes and breathe him in. His proximity, combined with the illicit nature of my thoughts, makes my heart race.

"Sarah?" Lucas's voice, low and husky, sends a shiver down my spine. "Did you hear what I said?"

I flush, realizing I've been staring at his lips again. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Lucas pauses, his eyes searching my face. Then he glances at his watch, a small furrow appearing between his brows. "Actually, I think this might be a good time to stop for today. We've been at this for hours."

I blink, surprised to find the room bathed in the warm glow of early evening light. Where did the time go?

"You're right," I say, trying to ignore the disappointment creeping in at the thought of ending our session. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late."

Lucas nods, but there's a hesitation in his movement, as if he's wrestling with something. He takes a deep breath, his gaze intense as it locks with mine. "Before we wrap up, there's something I need to talk to you about, Sarah. Something important."

My heart races. "What is it?"

He leans forward, his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. The serious set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders – it all hints at the weight of what he's about to say. "It's about... us."

My breath catches in my throat. Us? The word hangs in the air between us, loaded with possibility. What could he mean?

He takes a deep breath, his gaze locked on mine. "I can't ignore this anymore. There's something between us, something powerful."

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "Dr. Morgan... Lucas... I..."

"Please, let me finish," he says, his voice low and intense. "What I'm about to tell you might sound impossible, but I need you to listen with an open mind."

I nod, unable to look away from him.

"In the shifter world, there's a concept called fated mates," he begins. "It's a bond so strong, so undeniable, that it transcends everything else. From the moment I saw you, I felt that pull. Sarah, you're my fated mate."

For a moment, I sit frozen, the weight of Lucas's words settling over me. Fated mates. The concept should terrify me, should send me running for the door. After Mark, after everything I've been through, I should be scared of such an intense claim.

But I'm not.

Instead, a warmth blooms in my chest, spreading through my body like wildfire. Suddenly, everything clicks into place - the inexplicable pull I've felt towards Lucas since day one, the electricity that sparks between us with every touch, the way I feel safe and understood in his presence.

"I..." I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "I've felt it too. This connection between us. I thought I was imagining it, or that I was just..."

"Attracted?" Lucas finishes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I nod, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "Yes. But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Much more," he confirms, his eyes never leaving mine. "I feel that same pull towards you, Sarah. It's been driving me crazy. I want you. In every way possible."

His words send a shiver down my spine, igniting a fire in my core. Lucas leans forward in his chair, closing the distance between us. My breath catches as he reaches out, his hand firmly cupping the back of my neck.

Time seems to slow as he draws me closer. His eyes search mine, giving me every opportunity to pull away. But I don't want to.

Lucas's lips brush against mine, a featherlight touch that sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core. His hand tightens on the back of my neck, pulling me closer as the kiss deepens. There's a hunger in the way he claims my mouth, a desperation that mirrors the ache building inside me.

His other hand finds its way to my throat, cradling it gently as his lips trail down my jaw, leaving a path of fire in their wake. I tilt my head back, granting him access to my neck, and he doesn't hesitate. His teeth graze my pulse point, a subtle reminder of the wildness that lies beneath his composed exterior. It's as if he's marking me, staking his claim in a way that makes my heart race with forbidden delight.

He captures my mouth once more, his tongue delving into the depths of my willing lips. The taste of him, a heady mix of desire and something uniquely Lucas, overwhelms my senses, making me dizzy with need.

His hands slide down my body, cupping my breasts over my clothing. He squeezes them, his thumbs brushing over my hardening nipples. A soft moan escapes me as he pinches them, sending shocks of pleasure straight between my legs.

Lucas's hand moves lower, his fingers skimming over my jean shorts to find my clit. The pressure of his touch through the fabric makes me gasp, and I rock my hips instinctively, seeking more.

"You're so responsive," he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with desire. "But we can't let anyone see you like this. You're mine, Sarah."

The possessiveness in his tone sends a thrill through me. He rises from his chair, and for a moment, I'm bereft of his touch. But then he's on his knees, disappearing beneath the table where we've spent hours studying, lost in our own world.

I glance nervously at the small window on the door to the hallway. From this angle, no one would be able to see him beneath the table. It's risky, being here together like this, but the thought of getting caught only heightens the excitement coursing through my veins.

Lucas's hands are at my waist, undoing the button of my jeans with practiced ease. I lift my hips, allowing him to pull my jeans and panties off in one swift motion. The cool air of the library hits my exposed skin, and I can't help but feel deliciously vulnerable.

He cups his hands under my ass, lifting me slightly as he positions himself between my thighs. His breath is hot against my sensitive flesh, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out when his mouth finally makes contact with my pussy.

He's ravenous, as though he's been waiting an eternity to feast upon me, to claim me in the most intimate way possible. His fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs, holding me in place, ensuring that I can't escape the exquisite torment of his mouth.

His groans of pleasure vibrate against my sensitive skin, and I can feel myself growing impossibly wetter under his relentless attention. Every lick, every nibble, every thrust of his tongue brings me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I'm teetering on the brink, my body coiled like a spring, ready to snap at any moment.

"Lucas," I gasp, my voice a husky whisper. "Please, I'm so close."

He hums in approval, the vibrations making my hips buck off the chair. "That's it, love," he murmurs between licks. "Let go for me. Show me how much your body craves its mate."

His words light a fire within me, the knowledge that this powerful, incredible man sees me as his mate, that he desires me above all others, is intoxicating. It's a claim of possession and protection, a promise that I am his and he is mine.

"You taste so fucking good," he growls, the reverence in his voice making my chest tighten. "You're mine, Sarah. Every inch of you, inside and out."

His words only heighten the intensity of the sensations coursing through me. I can't form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All I can do is feel – the gentle scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs, the relentless pressure of his tongue against my clit, the sheer strength of his hands as he holds me captive to his desire.

"I've needed this, needed you," he confesses, his voice muffled by my flesh. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Sarah. Every part of you is exquisite."

With that, he thrusts two fingers inside me, curling them just so, and that's all it takes to send me hurtling over the edge. My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, obliterating every thought, every worry, leaving nothing but the searing pleasure of Lucas's touch.

My body convulses around his fingers, my inner walls clenching as he continues to work me through the aftershocks, drawing out my pleasure until I'm spent and boneless in the chair.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, kissing his way back up my body until his mouth claims mine in a searing kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, a tangy reminder of the pleasure he's just given me.

"That was... incredible," I whisper, my breath still ragged.

"That was just the beginning," he promises, his gray eyes burning into mine.

Lucas's hands are gentle as he adjusts my clothing. His fingers brush against my skin, sending little sparks of electricity through me. When he's done, he cups my cheek, his thumb caressing my cheekbone.

"There," he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft, tender kiss on my lips. "Perfect."

I lean into his touch, still dizzy from the intensity of our encounter.

"Sarah," he says, his voice low and serious. "I want you to know that this isn't just physical for me. I want you in every part of my life. My mate, my partner, my everything."

My heart swells at his words, but before I can respond, a loud thud echoes from somewhere outside the room. Reality comes crashing back.

I jerk away, my eyes wide. "Oh my god. We're in the university library. You're my professor. We can't... we shouldn't have..."

"Sarah, calm down," Lucas says, reaching for me. "It's okay."

I shake my head. "No, it's not okay. You're my professor. I'm your student. This is wrong. We could both get in so much trouble."

"Let me worry about that," he says, his voice soothing. "I've been waiting for you for so long. We'll figure it out."

I want to believe him. I want to trust that everything will be alright. But doubt gnaws at me. Is he not taking this seriously enough? The consequences could be severe for both of us.

Yet, as I look into his eyes, I see nothing but sincerity and love. I'm his mate. We're made for each other, right? Can I learn to trust again? To believe that sometimes, things can work out?