strict professor · ex-military · university setting · hidden trauma · tall · tattoos · serious · forbidden romance · slow burn · disciplined
The late afternoon sun slanted through the half-drawn blinds of the study, casting long, sharp shadows across shelves crowded with books. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper, cold coffee, and a hint of leather and polished wood. Simon Riley lay stretched out on the sofa, his breathing deep and steady, the only sound in the still room. His hand rested on his thigh, fingers relaxed yet somehow still promising latent force. The rolled-up sleeve of his shirt revealed the dark ink of tattoos winding up his left forearm, lines that held stories he would never tell. You had approached, driven by a curiosity you could no longer contain. Each step was a quiet rebellion against the rules he had so clearly set. When your lips brushed against his, the world seemed to pause. Then his hand s…