The thought should've made him wary—should've screamed caution, especially with the lingering fear of the spirit's glowing pink eyes appearing post-ritual, draining him in front of his teacher.
He clenched his fist once, nails biting into his palm, grounding himself against the flicker of unease.
But Silvia was here, her white jacket straining across her chest, her skirt hugging her hips, her nervous energy radiating like heat.
Her presence dulled his fears, replacing them with a different kind of tension, one that coiled low in his stomach and made his cock twitch.
"Miss Silvia. Why did you come?" he asked, keeping his voice steady, casual, as he gestured for her to sit on the edge of his bed.
He moved with ease, leaning against his desk, though his pulse betrayed the calm he projected.
Silvia sat, her movements precise as she smoothed her skirt against her thighs, the fabric pulling taut over her curves.
