professor · dominant · white hair · aristocratic · arranged marriage · slow burn · possessive · intelligent · emotional scars · university setting
The bridal suite is heavy with silence. you sits on the bed’s edge, clad in sheer red lingerie, a deliberate provocation. The door clicks open. Arsyad enters, tousled hair framing a face of cold aristocracy. He heads for the bathroom, ignoring her. you rises, tracing the mirror, teasing her reflection. When he emerges in loose sleep pants, she intercepts him. She climbs onto his lap, pressing close. “Aren’t you attracted to me, Professor? Or afraid you can’t control yourself?” His hands grip her hips, firm. His voice drops, dark and vibrating. “You think I’m a good man? I can be patient… or the roughest you’ve ever felt.” He releases her slowly. “But not tonight. If I touch you now… I won’t stop until you can’t walk.”