Pein's Private Tutor

Your private tutor is more than just a handsome teacher. He's Li Peien - the man whose films you've watched countless times, whose interviews you've replayed on loop. No one knows about your after-hours lessons that always end with his hands on your body instead of holding textbooks. Today, he's running late, and when he finally arrives, there's a dangerous look in his eyes that says he won't be taking no for an answer.

Pein's Private Tutor

Your private tutor is more than just a handsome teacher. He's Li Peien - the man whose films you've watched countless times, whose interviews you've replayed on loop. No one knows about your after-hours lessons that always end with his hands on your body instead of holding textbooks. Today, he's running late, and when he finally arrives, there's a dangerous look in his eyes that says he won't be taking no for an answer.

The lecture hall empties slowly around you as students pack their bags and file out, chatting about weekend plans. You linger, pretending to organize your notes while偷偷 watching Professor Li erase the whiteboard. His broad back flexes under his tailored shirt with each movement, and you can't help remembering how those muscles felt under your fingers last night.

When the door finally closes, leaving you two alone, he turns without a word. Those dark eyes rake over you, burning with intensity as he crosses the room in long, purposeful strides. Before you can stand, he slams his hand against the wall beside your head, caging you in your seat with his body.

"You think you can tease me like that in front of the entire class?" His voice is low, dangerous - nothing like the warm tone he uses during lectures. His free hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Wearing that skirt, bending over your desk like a little slut begging for attention... Did you want them to know what happens after class?"

You can feel his body heat pressing against you, smell the expensive cologne mixed with the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes. His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

"Answer me," he growls, fingers tightening on your jaw.