Chapter 1

1

GAbrIEL

T he classroom is buzzing before I walk inside. The first day of classes is always exciting, and I'm eager to begin my lesson plan. Surveying the room as I make my way to the desk at the front of the class, I see several familiar faces and wave hello to all of them. I'm well aware that a lot of the female students on campus have crushes on me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered, but I try to ignore it whenever I can.

My classes focus mostly on short fiction writing and crafting engaging fantasy worlds, which has helped with the enrolment in the school entirely. Before I decided to teach, I'd published several of my own novels, and they gained some notoriety over the years. Every year, one or two of my students will ask me about them because they look up to me in some ways. There are also the fans who take the class just to be near me.

"I hope you all had good summer breaks," I say as I reach the front of the class and put my briefcase down on the desk. "I also hope you've finished the summer reading list I assigned."

I stare out at the class to see more blank stares and students desperately averting my gaze than I would like, and I know right away they assumed the list was a suggestion.

"Raise your hand if you've read Nightfall by Isaac Asimov," I say, leaning against the back of the desk as three of thirty students raise their hands. "Today's lesson is gonna be pretty short then. But first, we need to go over the syllabus."

I grab a stack of papers from my bag and hand them to one of the students in the front row, asking them to pass it down. When I see it moving, I grab the attendance sheet and begin calling out names to see who decided to show up. Only one name is left unannounced. Grace Simmons. I mark her as absent and begin reading through the syllabus with the students who showed up, making my expectations for the class very clear.

About ten minutes later, as I'm covering the different types of fiction we'll be studying, the door to the classroom bursts open, and someone walks in carrying a large stack of textbooks in her hands, struggling with them. The entire class turns around to see what's happening, and her pale skin turns red as she awkwardly smiles at them.

The last seat available is one right across from me, so I watch her walk from the back of the classroom, her chest heaving from carrying the heavy books. My heart skips a beat as I watch her. She's perhaps the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. She has rosy skin dotted with freckles, hazelnut eyes that shimmer in the light from the windows, and her sandy blonde hair falls in waves down her back.

Every other student in the classroom fades away while she carefully sets her books down on the ground, slowly bending over to show off her curves. The back of her shirt rises, showing off her soft skin, and I find myself wishing it were completely gone. She takes her seat, smiles at me, and bites her lip softly as she looks around the room.

"Grace Simmons, I presume?" I ask her, walking around to take a seat behind the desk, afraid the students might see exactly how aroused I am by her.

"I'm so sorry for being late," she says, her voice soft and gentle like a birdsong carried in the wind. "The line at the bookstore was longer than I thought, and I lost track of time."

"That's fine, Miss Simmons," I reply, forcing myself to look away from her. After finishing the syllabus, the students pulled out their phones and computers to read Nightfall as I requested they do before classes began.

Instead of looking at her phone, Grace pulls out an old, well-loved collection of Aasimov's short stories and reads them. While the students are distracted, I find myself losing focus and staring at Grace entirely. Her long legs are visible to me under the desk, and I'd love nothing more than to go to them and wrap them around me. She twirls a long strand of hair in her fingers while she reads, softly biting into her plump, pink lips.

All I can think about is how badly I want to bend her over the desk and shove myself deep inside of her, filling her with my seed and claiming her as my own. I open my computer and search the student database for more information about her. Grace is a junior; she'll be twenty-one in a month, and she's been published a few times in the school's literary magazine. I make a mental note to find an old copy and read her work when I can.

The alarm on my phone buzzes and pulls me back to the present as the allotted time I gave the students to read ends. Unfortunately, class time is nearly over, and students begin packing their bags before we have much of a chance to discuss the reading.

"Come prepared to discuss Nightfall and The Yellow Wallpaper Wednesday," I say to them as they file out of the room. "Participation is a large part of your grade!"

The only student left behind is Grace. She stands behind her desk, giving me a full view of her ass in the tiny denim shorts she wears, strategically stacking textbooks in her bag.

"Need a hand with that?" I ask her, walking over to her and kneeling to pick up her books off the floor.

I hesitate before standing for a moment, thinking about how badly I wish I could taste her right here. She stares down at me with a smile on her face as she watches me.

"I should be able to get it to my car from here," she says, nodding at me to thank me for the help.

I turn away from her and walk back to the desk before she can see the bulge forming in my pants. Just being inches away from her was intoxicating. She smells like citrus and honey. I badly want to reach out and touch her skin.

"I promise I won't be late like today again," she says. "I've been on the waitlist for this class for two years, and I don't want to mess it up."

"Two years? That's a long time to wait," I say, grabbing my briefcase and covering my groin with it subtly. "I hope I live up to your expectations, Miss Simmons."

Grace stares at me with a soft smile, watching as my eyes survey her body. She doesn't shy away from my gaze, and that only makes my desire stronger. I can't help but wonder if she wants me as much as I want her.

"I doubt you could," she replies, approaching the desk with her hands behind her back, pushing her breasts out slightly. "I've read all of your work, and I'm very impressed by it. I'd love to learn anything I can from you."

I look down at her face, seeing the eagerness in her eyes, and contemplate my next words carefully. "Well, Miss Simmons, my office hours are listed on the syllabus. I'd love for you to come by."

I grab another syllabus from my bag and hand it to her, raising an eyebrow as I do. Grace subtly licks her bottom lip as she takes it and smiles at me before turning around and walking back to her desk. I watch her as she moves, admiring the sway of her hips and the outlines of her curves. As I'm watching her, she looks over her shoulder and smiles at me, well aware of everything I'm thinking.

She walks out of the room, and all I can think of is how badly I want her. How badly I need her to be mine.