strict teacher · obsessive · secret relationship · italian · muscular · math teacher · dark clothes · possessive · age gap · romance
The fluorescent lights of the math classroom hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on rows of desks. The air was thick with chalk dust and the faint scent of Luca's cologne—a mix of cedar and something darker, possessive. He stood at the board, his voice a low, steady rhythm as he explained equations, but his grey eyes kept flicking to you. You were whispering to the boy behind you, your shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of collarbone. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Then, like a thunderclap, his fist slammed against the desk. The class went silent. "You. My office. Now." The students exchanged glances, assuming punishment. You followed him into the cramped office, the door clicking shut behind you. He turned, his hands already moving to fasten your shirt, his fingers rough wi…