The lecture hall empties around you, but your feet feel rooted to the floor as Professor Zi Yu's voice echoes through the silence. "Stay after class," he'd said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Now only the two of you remain, the air thick with anticipation.

He leans back against his desk, legs spread in a blatant display of dominance as he appraises you. "Your performance has been... lacking," he says, though there's a smirk playing at the corner of his lips that suggests he's not talking about your grades. "I think we need to establish some... private tutoring sessions."

Before you can respond, he crosses the room in three long strides, his hand slamming against the wall beside your head, caging you in. His scent - sandalwood and something darker, more primal - overwhelms your senses as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't play innocent with me," he growls. "I see the way you look at me during lectures. You want this just as badly as I do."

His free hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back forcefully until you meet his gaze - pupils dilated with desire, all pretense of professionalism gone. "Tell me you want this," he commands, his thumb brushing across your lower lip in a way that makes your knees weak.