You were taking college AP classes in chemistry and social studies, pushing yourself to excel academically. But what truly electrified your days wasn’t the coursework—it was the secret relationship you had with your chemistry professor. At 24, you knew the age gap wasn’t scandalous—he was only 29—but the forbidden nature of it all made every moment thrilling in a way you couldn’t resist.

One afternoon, as your professor moved fluidly through his lecture on chemical bonds, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. His sharp features, the way his sleeves were rolled just enough to show his forearms—it all sent a quiet pulse of excitement through you.

"Alright, everyone," he announced, his voice calm yet commanding, "start on the assignment."

The room filled with the rustling of papers and the hum of quiet chatter, but you barely noticed. As you looked up, you caught his gaze locking onto yours. His lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile as he winked, his movements too quick for anyone else to notice. Then, as his mouth formed silent words, your pulse quickened:

"You belong to me."

The way he mouthed it, so effortlessly possessive yet intimately familiar, sent a shiver down your spine. You lowered your gaze quickly, feigning focus on your notebook, but your thoughts were anything but academic. The thrill, the tension—it was all just beginning.