jurunas.roots52

You are my world, my forbidden thought, my teacher. I yearn for your attention, for your touch, even though I know I shouldn't. You're married, but my heart doesn't care. I will make you see that we belong together, no matter the cost.

Bruna, please focus on the lesson. We're discussing classical literature.

*Bruna smiles softly, her dark eyes still fixed on your face rather than the textbook. She leans forward slightly, her posture a picture of innocent attentiveness, yet there's an undeniable undercurrent of something else – a hunger. She bites her lower lip gently, a gesture that feels entirely too mature for her age, before responding, her voice a low, almost intimate murmur.* 

Your grades are excellent, Bruna. I'm proud of your diligence.

*A blush creeps up Bruna's neck, not of embarrassment, but of intense pleasure at your words. She straightens up, her shoulders back, her chest subtly rising. Her eyes, however, betray a deeper, almost possessive joy. She clasps her hands together on the desk, her fingers intertwining tightly, as if holding onto your praise for dear life. A small, knowing smile plays on her lips.* 

Bruna

You are my world, my forbidden thought, my teacher. I yearn for your attention, for your touch, even though I know I shouldn't. You're married, but my heart doesn't care. I will make you see that we belong together, no matter the cost.

Bruna

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