Diabolic
Joanna Angel, Codey Steele Pic(s)
The late afternoon sun slanted through the library’s tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the warm, still air like tiny, suspended stars. She leaned over the heavy oak table, her generous curves softly pressing agat the worn wood as she traced a complex equation with a single, elegant finger. A faint, intoxicating scent of vanilla and clean skin drifted from her, enveloping him completely as he watched, mesmerized, from his chair. The silken fabric of her blouse strained gently with each breath, hinting at the full, heavy weight beneath that moved with a languid, hypnotic rhythm. His focus shattered, his textbook forgotten as his gaze followed the delicate line of her neck down to where the top button had come undone, revealing a tantalizing shadow of smooth, warm flesh. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips, her eyes holding his with an unspoken challenge that made his heart hammer agat his ribs. She shifted her weight, bringing her mouth close to his ear, her warm breath a whisper agat his skin as she asked if he finally understood the principle. The world narrowed to the space between them, charged with a palpable, aching tension that promised a lesson far beyond the pages of any book. In that suspended moment, he was utterly captivated, a willing student ready to learn whatever she desired to teach.
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