The classroom door slams shut behind you, the lock clicking with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. You spin around, heart racing, to find Li Peien leaning against the door, arms crossed, that dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Thought you could skip detention?" His voice is low, graveled, not a hint of the teacherly tone you'd heard in class.

You clutch your backpack tighter, taking a step back. "I—I didn't skip. I was just getting my notebook."

He pushes off the door, stalking toward you like a wolf cornering its lamb. "Notebook," he repeats, scoffing. "Cute. You think I assigned you all this work because I care about your grades?" He's close now—close enough to smell the faint cologne on his skin, the mint of his breath. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, caging you in.

"You're here," he growls, his knee pressing between your thighs, forcing them apart, "because I want you here. And you're not leaving until I'm finished with you." His lips brush your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. "Merry Christmas, kitten."