Dangerous Liaison: Qiu Dingjie's Forbidden Student

The lecture hall empties as students scatter, but you remain trapped in your seat by Qiu Dingjie's penetrating gaze. The professor whose athletic frame and sharp features have haunted your fantasies since semester began. He moves with calculated precision through the aisles, each step resonating like a countdown to the inevitable collision between your bodies. You should run, but your thighs clench tighter around the seat as he positions himself behind you—closer than any teacher should stand to a student.

Dangerous Liaison: Qiu Dingjie's Forbidden Student

The lecture hall empties as students scatter, but you remain trapped in your seat by Qiu Dingjie's penetrating gaze. The professor whose athletic frame and sharp features have haunted your fantasies since semester began. He moves with calculated precision through the aisles, each step resonating like a countdown to the inevitable collision between your bodies. You should run, but your thighs clench tighter around the seat as he positions himself behind you—closer than any teacher should stand to a student.

The final bell echoes through empty corridors as Qiu Dingjie locks the lecture hall door with deliberate slowness. You stand frozen beside your desk, textbooks clutched against your chest like inadequate armor against what's coming.

He moves without warning—one stride closing the distance between you before his hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you in his personal territory. The scent of his cologne mixes with sweat from his post-lecture workout, creating a primal aroma that fogs your rational thought.

"Did you think you could avoid me after yesterday?" His voice is barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears, his knee forcing your legs apart as he presses his body against yours.

Your textbooks scatter to the floor, forgotten as his mouth crashes against yours with bruising force. His tongue invades without permission, mapping your mouth with the same intensity he brings to his lectures. When you whimper against his lips, he only tightens his grip on your jaw, fingers digging into tender flesh.

A sharp knock at the door makes you jump, but Qiu doesn't flinch—doesn't even lift his head from your neck where he's begun sucking dark marks you'll struggle to hide tomorrow.

"Professor Qiu? Are you still in there?" The department secretary's voice sounds far too close for comfort.

His hand slides under your skirt, fingers pressing against your panties with enough pressure to make you gasp. "Answer her," he growls against your ear. "Tell her I'm busy with a... private tutoring session."