CHAPTER 3

HIROTO'S POV 

The silence in the lecture hall was suffocating. The last few students had trickled out, their chatter fading down the hallway, leaving me alone with the man who had bought my body for a hundred thousand dollars.

Neven didn't move. He stayed leaned against his desk, his massive arms crossed, his blue eyes tracking every frantic breath I took. The sunlight hitting the whiteboard behind him made his blonde hair glow, but there was nothing angelic about him. He looked like he was dissecting me.

"Professor," I started, my voice trembling. "I... I can explain."

"Explain what, Hiroto?" He stood up, his height making the room feel small. "Explain that the top student of the department spent the weekend arched under me in a hotel suite? Or explain why you thought a piece of silver wire over your eyes was enough to hide the fact that you’re a high-end whore?"

The word whore hit me like a slap. My face burned with shame. "I do what I have to do for my scholarship. For my life here. Please... don't tell the Dean. If the school finds out, I’ll be deported."

Neven walked toward me, his heavy footsteps echoing. He stopped when he was inches away, his scent—that expensive sandalwood—filling my lungs. He reached out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"I don't care about your scholarship, and I certainly don't care about the Dean," he murmured, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. "But, I do care about my investment. I paid a lot of money for a weekend that ended too soon. I think we need a new arrangement. A private curriculum."

"What kind of arrangement?" I whispered.

"You’ll show up to every lecture. You’ll maintain your grades. But your free time? That belongs to me. You’ll be my personal assistant by day, and whatever else I want you to be by night." He let go of my chin and stepped back, his professional mask sliding back into place. "Go to your next class. Come to my office at 6:00 PM tonight. We have 'files' to organize."

The rest of the day was a nightmare. I couldn't focus on anything. Every time a student mentioned Professor Karlsson’s name, my stomach churned. By the time 6:00 PM rolled around, I was standing in front of his office door, my hand shaking as I knocked.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was dim, lit only by a single desk lamp. Neven was sitting behind a massive desk, a glass of scotch in his hand. He looked up, his eyes darkening the moment they landed on me.

"Lock the door, Hiroto."

I turned the thumb-turn lock with a soft click. My heart was hammering against my ribs. "I'm here to help with the files, Professor."

Neven set his glass down. "Forget the files. Get over here."

I walked toward the desk, my legs feeling heavy. When I reached him, he didn't get up. He just looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my high-collared sweater.

"Take off your pants," he said, his voice flat and commanding.

I froze. "What? Here? Someone might come by, the janitors—"

"I didn't ask for a list of your fears. I told you to take off your pants. Now."

I swallowed hard. My hands went to my belt, my fingers fumbling with the buckle. I slid my slacks down, then my boxers, until I was standing in front of my professor completely bare from the waist down. The cool air of the office hit my skin, and I felt smaller than ever.

Neven’s eyes dropped to my crotch. I was already half-hard just from the fear and the memory of his touch. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping around my dick, squeezing firmly. I let out a choked gasp, my knees buckling.

"So sensitive," he teased, his thumb rubbing over the tip, catching the bead of moisture there. "Did you think about me all day in class? Did you wonder if I was going to do this while I was lecturing on corporate strategy?"

"Yes," I breathed, my head falling back.

He stood up, towering over me, and grabbed the back of my neck. He steered me around until I was facing the desk. "Lean over. Hands on the wood."

I obeyed, my heart racing. I gripped the edge of the desk, my ass pushed back toward him. I heard the sound of a zipper, then the rustle of clothing. A moment later, I felt his cock rubbing against my butt, it was just as large as I remembered it. 

“We didn't it not too long ago, you should still be loose,” he said, inserting two of his fingers and stretching it to confirm what he'd already said. I felt my dick leak precum from such a simple touch. My body wanted him more than I knew. 

“So lewd,” he gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin, and shoved his cock inside me in one thrust.

"Ah! Neven!" I screamed into the empty office, my fingers clawing at the mahogany desk.

"Professor," he growled, pulling back and slamming into me again. "Call me Professor as long as we're on school grounds."

"Professor! Please!" I sobbed, the pleasure and pain mixing into something overwhelming. He was too big, stretching me to the limit, but the feeling of him filling me up was the only thing that made sense.

He didn't go slow. He hammered into me without giving me any time to rest, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the quiet room. Every thrust jolted my entire body, my petite frame bouncing under his weight. He reached around, his hand gripping my cock and jerking me in time with his thrusts. I moaned loudly, forgetting to hold back my voice.

"You like this, don't you?" he hissed in my ear, his teeth grazing my lobe. "Being used like a toy in the same building where you pretend to be a perfect student."

"I love it... fuck, yes!" I cried out, my vision blurring. I was close, so close. The friction was incredible, his knot hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

Neven groaned, his pace becoming frantic. He let go of my cock and grabbed both of my shoulders, pinning me flat against the desk. He delivered three more deep, soul-shattering thrusts before he stiffened, a low groan vibrating in his chest. I felt the hot, thick burst of cum filling me, the heat of it making my insides quiver.

The sensation was too much. I came right then, my release splattering across the desk and onto my own chest, my body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

For a long minute, he didn't move. He just stayed buried inside me, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Then, he slowly pulled out and stepped back.

I slumped against the desk, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I felt messy and ruined, but a strange sense of calm had settled over me.

Neven adjusted his clothes, looking perfectly composed again, as if he hadn't just taken me like an animal on his office furniture. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small velvet box. He tossed it onto the desk in front of me.

"Put that on," he said.

I opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside was a thin, elegant black leather cord with a small silver ring in the middle. It was a collar.

"You’ll wear this under your sweaters," Neven said, his voice cold again. "Every day. If I ever catch you on campus without it, I’ll make sure your scholarship is revoked by lunch."

I looked at the collar, then up at him. He wasn't joking. He had the money, the power, and now, he had me.

"Yes, Professor," I whispered, snapping the collar around my neck. Maybe I was crazy but something about this turned me on even more.