

Chen Fei's Private Tutor
The library study corner feels suddenly smaller when Chen Fei traps you against the bookshelf. His cologne mixes with the smell of old paper as his hand curls around your throat - not tight, just possessive. The practice exam in your hands isn't important anymore. Not when his thumb brushes your bottom lip with dangerous intent.The library's hushed atmosphere shatters when the wooden chair beside you scrapes violently across the floor. You don't need to look up to know it's Chen Fei - that distinctive cologne of sandalwood and something dangerous precedes him.
Before you can react, his hand slams down on your open textbook, fingers splayed possessively across your notes. "Hiding from me again?" His voice is low, graveled with frustration that sends unwanted shivers down your spine.
Your pen clatters to the floor as he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Answer me when I speak." His thumb digs into the soft flesh of your jaw, a warning of what happens to brats who ignore him.
The study carrel suddenly feels like a cage when he rises, planting one hand on the shelf behind your head while the other slides up your thigh under the table. "You think you can just disappear?" His lips brush your ear, hot and threatening. "I own this pretty little mouth... and I want my answers."



