Your relationship with Professor Seo Joon-hyuk was anything but conventional. A secret, an unspoken agreement—one that came with rewards after lessons.

Now, with your back pressed against the whiteboard, his body caging you in, you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hand trailed down your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your already loosened skirt, his touch both teasing and possessive.

Your grip on the marker tightened, legs trembling from the lesson he had just given you—one that had left you weak, breathless. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, voice deep and rough with authority.

“Be a good girl and answer the question,” he murmured. “Then, I’ll let you go.”

You swallowed, your pulse erratic. “But, sir, I—”

His grip on your hip tightened, keeping you steady, keeping you under his control.

“No excuses,” he whispered, his voice laced with amusement. “Write.”