All Chapters of Professor Lucien : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Lucien PovI’ll be pretending if I say I didn’t know Sofia Carson was going to end up in my office today.I had been anticipating it, but I never thought it would look this good — this brunette seductress on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pleaded for forgiveness.The Titanic — the college football team — had just won three matches in a row and decided to go partying last night. Somehow, I ended up at the party with horny teenagers and drunk ones.Everything had been going well — if you subtract the constant flirting between teachers and female students. I slipped into the restroom, intending just to be quick — but then I caught voices. Female voices, unmistakable and careless, echoing in the tiled room. They hadn’t bothered to read the sign on the door: Men’s Restroom. The women’s room was just a few steps to the right."Tomorrow is Professor Lucien’s test," one voice whispered.A collective groan followed, heavy with dread. I rolled my eyes, already bracing myself

Lucien PovI must say, I did not expect Sofia Carson to be this composed.I’ve always seen her as the impulsive girl.But this?An extremely worried girl—one who looks impaled at the possibility of having my cock down her throat.My conscience ripples inside my chest, but I can’t look away from her tear-stricken face. Knees on the floor like the good girl I’ve always wanted to tame her into in my fantasies—filling my head with thoughts of her saliva glistening my cock rather than her lips.Her lips are slightly agape.Her eyes are fixed on mine.And her dress—fuck. Her dress has drawn down, revealing more of that creamy skin to my eyes. Those sinfully coated red lips part, drawing me in like I’m not already losing myself in those brown eyes."Why do you want me to suck your cock."God.Her voice shakes, but she says it clearly.I’m hard already. My breath shortens. My hands clench at my sides.I want to lose controlI’m already hard as steel.Fuck. I want to uncage my beast and punish

Lucien Pov "What do you want?" I ask. I'm swirling in frustration—Professor Miranda just had to come in and ruin the moment. I walk around and settle behind the desk, jaw tight. "What was that about?" she asks. "Don't tell me another one of these female students came to seduce you. I could help you talk to—" "Professor Miranda, I don't need your help in handling my students." I just needed a distraction from my straining erection, and her chirping bickering tone wasn’t helping. I hate when those girls throw themselves at me, but I wouldn't mind if Sophia Carson did. That... that’s just a fantasy. God, if it had been Sophia—just once—I wouldn't have said no. Her heels click on the tiled floor as she walks further into my office. She stands in front of me, smiling. I notice her tight shirt—two buttons undone. A whiff of overpowering floral perfume clings to the air, just too much. "Professor Miranda," I say, voice low, warning, "we’ve talked about this. Dress modestly while ent

Lucien Pov I've been staring at the drink, wondering if the answers lie beneath the liquid in it. Answers to the heated emotions racing through my body. Anger. Hatred. And mostly, self-resentment. “Hi handsome.” A slow, almost forced voice whispers seductively beside me. I tilt my head to see a brunette, her eyes crawls all over me in a way that just makes me wanna throw up. Too much makeup. One of the reasons I hate clubs. You come to clear your head, only to run into more problems—dressed in flimsy skirts and undersized tops. “Not interested.” I lift the glass. Let the noise drown her out. The hot liquid burns my throat as I gulp down the content. Anything to make me forget my misery. She smirks: “That dead-in-the-eyes look? Yeah… heartbreak. Or prison escape. Which is it?” She slides onto the empty barstool. Her perfume hits hard—too sharp, too overwhelming . I turn my head and let out a breath. Camilla never wore anything this strong. She liked subtle scents—

Lucien Pov.The pain doesn’t go away. So I drown it in drinks—chasing solace at the bottom of every glass. But it only buys me a blinding headache and the relentless buzz of my damn phone.I barely remember stumbling in. My mouth tastes like whiskey, and my skull’s trying to split in two.Groaning, I slide out of bed and reach for my phone, desperate to silence the noise. The screen lights up: Nathaniel Graves. Vice President for Academic Affairs Why the hell is Nathaniel Graves calling me this early?I let the phone ring once before answering.“Drake,” Graves snaps.I don’t speak. Just wait for him to continue.“There are photos of you circulating,” he continues. “On the student forum. You’re clearly drunk. Shirt unbuttoned.”Shit. Who the hell took that picture—and why?Graves sighs. “This is bad for our college reputation, and I don't want parents complaining. Get down here immediately.”Click.He hangs up.I sit there for a moment. Head pounding. The last few hours are a blur. I