Broken By Desire

Amara didn't remember how she got to the bathroom. One moment, Rafael's furious voice was chasing her out of his office, the heat of his kiss still burning her lips, and the next, she was gripping the edge of the sink, trying to steady her breathing.

Her heart pounded like a drum against her ribs, her skin alive with sensation, humming with an energy she didn't know how to contain. Her lips were swollen, her breath shaky, and her legs—God, her legs still trembled from the way he had touched her, from the way he had kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he wanted to own every piece of her until there was nothing left.

And she had let him.

A strangled sound left her throat. What had she done?

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face, as if it would somehow wash away the memory of him, the heat, the hunger. But it didn't. The moment she closed her eyes, it was there again—his hands gripping her waist, his fingers threading through her hair, his body pressed against hers, hard and unrelenting. The way his tongue had teased her lips before he had claimed her like he had every right to.

Amara gasped, bracing herself against the sink, willing her body to forget. But it wouldn't. The betrayal was deep, bone-deep. She had kissed Rafael—her professor. The man she despised. The man who had spent months tormenting her with his power, his presence. The man who had just told her to get out like she was nothing.

And yet, her body still ached for him.

Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. This wasn't who she was. She wasn't weak. She wasn't reckless. She had spent years crafting a wall around herself, protecting what little dignity she had left. And in one single moment, Rafael had shattered it, torn through her defenses with nothing but a look, a touch, a kiss.

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she bit it back, clenching her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. She couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when the echoes of his voice still lingered in her head, cold and unforgiving.

Get out.

Amara squeezed her eyes shut. He had kissed her like a man possessed, then tossed her away like she meant nothing. And maybe she didn't. Maybe she had just been another conquest, another way for him to exert control. But something about that kiss… something about the way his hands had trembled against her skin, the way he had groaned her name like he was unraveling—

No. Stop it. Stop thinking about him.

She gripped the sink harder, forcing herself to breathe, to think rationally. No one could find out about this. If anyone did—

Her stomach twisted violently.

If anyone found out, it wouldn't just be Rafael who suffered. It would be her. She was the student, the one who would be blamed, judged, ridiculed. People would whisper that she had seduced him, that she had used her body to get ahead. They wouldn't see the power imbalance, wouldn't care that Rafael had been the one in control from the very beginning.

They would rip her apart.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers tightening around the porcelain. She couldn't let that happen. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much. She wouldn't let one reckless moment ruin her.

And yet, deep down, a voice whispered—

It wasn't just a moment.

No, it wasn't. It was the tension that had been building between them for months. The stolen glances, the sharp words, the unbearable heat every time they were alone. It had been inevitable, a collision she had seen coming and still hadn't avoided.

A knock on the door jolted her back to reality.

"Amara? Are you in there?"

She stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. It was her friend, Leah.

"Yeah," Amara forced out, her voice hoarse.

"Are you okay? You've been in there forever."

Amara glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, her lips still red from Rafael's kiss. Shame curled in her stomach.

"I'm fine," she lied, turning on the faucet again to make it seem like she was doing something other than having a full-blown crisis.

A pause. Then, "Are you sure?"

No. "Yeah."

Leah hesitated, but then her footsteps retreated, and Amara exhaled slowly, gripping the sink for support. She needed to pull herself together. Needed to erase every trace of him from her mind, from her body.

But the problem was, he was everywhere. In the way her lips still tingled, in the way her skin still burned, in the way her heart still raced whenever she remembered the way he had looked at her—like he was drowning, like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

And then, just as quickly, he had pushed her away.

Amara sucked in a breath, blinking back the sting in her eyes. She wouldn't cry over him. Wouldn't let him take anything more from her.

But even as she told herself that, she knew the truth.

Something had changed between them.

And no matter how hard she tried—

There was no undoing it.

Rafael

The moment the door shut behind Amara, Rafael's breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. He braced his hands against the desk, his fingers curling into fists against the polished wood. His entire body vibrated with restraint, a storm raging beneath his skin.

He had lost control.

And not just in the fleeting way of a momentary lapse—no, this was deeper. Raw. Dangerous. He had unraveled, and it had taken everything in him to push her away before he drowned completely.

She had looked at him with those wide, storm-filled eyes, lips swollen from his kiss, cheeks flushed with heat he had put there. The taste of her was still on his tongue, the press of her body still seared into his skin. And it took every last shred of willpower he possessed not to go after her.

Rafael let out a low curse, raking his fingers through his hair. What the hell had he done?

Amara was forbidden. Off-limits. She wasn't just any woman—she was his student. The moment he crossed that line, he knew there would be consequences, knew there was no coming back from it. But knowing had never been the problem.

Wanting was.

And God, did he want her.

Rafael squeezed his eyes shut, but the images flooded back in ruthless detail—the way she had trembled beneath his hands, the way she had gasped against his lips as if she had been waiting for this as much as he had. The way she had whispered his name, breathless and needy, like she had surrendered herself completely to him.

It was madness.

And yet, he could still feel the ghost of her touch, the press of her fingers against his chest, the way her body had molded to his so perfectly, like she had been made for him.

His jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. He needed to get out of here before he did something even more reckless.

Grabbing his coat and keys, Rafael stalked out of his office and into the dimly lit parking lot. His car was waiting for him, sleek and black, the only thing in his life he had full control over. Without hesitation, he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the low rumble cutting through the silence of the night.

He didn't have a destination in mind—he just needed to move. To get as far away from the suffocating weight of what had just happened. The city blurred past him as he sped down the road, his grip tight on the wheel, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

He should've never let it get this far.

He had always been careful, always maintained his distance. But Amara had shattered his control with nothing but her presence. Her beauty was the kind that was meant to be dangerous—not soft, not fleeting, but something deeper, something that burned and lingered.

She was the kind of beautiful that could destroy a man.

Rafael exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he forced himself to focus on the road. But even as the city lights faded into darkness, his mind refused to let go of her.

How had this happened?

He had spent months convincing himself that whatever pull existed between them was nothing but a fleeting distraction, a momentary intrigue. He had ignored the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a crowded room, the way his pulse quickened whenever she spoke back to him in class with that sharp tongue and fire in her eyes.

But tonight had proven him wrong.

This wasn't fleeting.

It was a storm that had been building from the moment she walked into his life.

Rafael tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His body still ached with the memory of her—her scent, her taste, the way she had melted against him before pulling herself back, before fear and reason had ripped them apart.

He had seen the conflict in her eyes before she left. Had seen the way her hands had trembled when she reached for the door, as if she, too, had felt the shift between them.

That terrified her.

It terrified him, too.

Because this wasn't just about desire anymore. It was something else—something deeper, something far more dangerous.

Rafael pulled over onto the side of the road, gripping the wheel as he tried to catch his breath. His head fell back against the seat, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself to let go of her—to push her from his mind.

But it was useless.

She was in his blood now, a wildfire that refused to be contained.

He let out a bitter laugh, rubbing his palm over his face. "Fuck."

He shouldn't have kissed her. Shouldn't have given in. But the moment her lips had parted beneath his, the moment she had surrendered just enough for him to taste her, to feel the way she burned for him—it had broken him.

He had seen the way she fought it, the way she tried to convince herself that she hated him, that she wanted nothing to do with him. But Rafael knew better.

He had felt the way she clung to him, the way her body had betrayed her, had pressed closer instead of pulling away.

She wanted him just as badly.

And that was the most dangerous part of all.

Because now, he wasn't sure he had it in him to stop.

The low hum of passing cars filled the silence as he sat there, his mind racing. He knew he should turn around, go back to his apartment, bury himself in work and pretend like none of this had happened.

But the thought of returning to that empty space, of sitting in silence while the taste of her still lingered on his lips, felt unbearable.

He needed distance.

He needed air.

Shifting gears, Rafael pulled back onto the road, pushing the car faster, farther. He didn't care where he ended up—as long as it wasn't anywhere near her.

But no matter how far he drove, no matter how many miles stretched between them, he knew the truth he was trying to escape.

Amara wasn't just a mistake.

She was an inevitability.

And sooner or later, he was going to break all over again.