Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bend me over, Professor : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

POV Anastasia Well… this wasn’t exactly how I planned for Delilah to find out.I mean, I had imagined a lot of possible scenarios—slipping up, her snooping through my texts, maybe her catching me sneaking out of the apartment again.But not this.Not her putting it together right in front of the whole damn school hallway, her voice carrying like a fucking megaphone.“Oh my GOD. Oh my actual GOD, Anastasia !”Three freshman scatter like roaches when the lights come on.“Delilah , what the hell—”“You’re sleeping with Professor Montelli !” Her eyes are literally bulging out of her skull. “And his wife! Holy fucking shit!”My blood turns to Arctic slush. “What are you talking about?”“Don’t you DARE lie to me right now!” She’s pointing at me like I just confessed to murder. “You’re completely insane.”“Am I? Because you’ve been sneaking out at weird hours, you smell different.”Shit. Shit shit shit.“Janitor’s closet. NOW.” Sh

POV Anastasia “I swear, you have a glow,” Delilah said, balancing her iced coffee with one hand and tugging my arm with the other as we walked across the quad. “So… how was last night?” I pretended to sip my drink just to buy time. My body was still sore in ways I couldn’t admit out loud. My thighs, my voice, my mind—everything had been touched, teased, or wrecked in some capacity. I shrugged, trying to look casual. “It was… good.” Delilah narrowed her eyes, not buying it. “Good? That’s it? Girl, you were gone all night, showed up this morning in yesterday’s hoodie, and you’re walking like you just left a yoga retreat and a warzone at the same time. You better cough up some details.” I rolled my eyes, laughing softly. “Fine. It was better than good.” Her eyes lit up, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god. Did he do stuff like Christian Grey?” That made me laugh out loud. “Honestly? Better. Way better.” Delilah ’s jaw dropped. “Shut. Up. Are you serious?” I nodded, smil

POV Anastasia “I still think this is insane,” I whispered, watching Zoey reapply her wine-red lipstick in the dim hallway light, her reflection flickering in the trophy case glass like a dangerous mirage. She smirked, eyes sharp and predatory. “Darling, insanity is how you survive men like them.” The gym echoed with the last traces of laughter as the hockey team disappeared into the night. My fingers curled around the key Delilah had stolen—sweaty, trembling, not with fear. With power. With anticipation. “They’ll come,” Zoey said, smoothing her blouse like she wasn’t about to turn this place into a battlefield. “Boys never turn down a meeting when they think they’re in charge.” At 9:07, like sheep to the slaughter, Jaden and Alex walked through the double doors. Jaden strutted like he owned the world. Alex, a few steps behind, wore his varsity jacket like armor. He looked unsure. Good. “You said this was to talk,” Alex said, his voice uncertain. “Relax,” I said, stepping into

POV Anastasia “Jaden transferred schools,” Delilah blurted as we walked across campus. “And broke up with Rebecca.” I blinked at her, feigning wide-eyed surprise like I hadn’t been directly responsible for both those things. “Wait, seriously?” She gave me a sideways look. “Yes, seriously. Like, totally gone. Cleared out his locker and everything. No goodbye. Rebecca’s been crying in the bathroom since second period.” I clutched my books to my chest, fighting the smirk that threatened to rise. “That’s… wow. That’s wild.” “You’re such a bad liar,” Delilah muttered under her breath. Before I could respond, Sarah Mitchell, the head of the department, suddenly stepped out from a corridor and walked straight toward me. Her heels clicked against the tile like gunshots. “Anastasia ,” she said, her voice softer than I expected. “May I have a word?” I nodded, unsure of what was about to come out of her mouth. “I wanted to apologize,” she said plainly. “Alex Rivera came to see me yeste

POV Anastasia Paris was everything I’d dreamed of and so much more. The Seine glittered beneath moonlight like a lover’s promise. Wind whispered across the Louvre’s marble steps as if the city knew what we were about to do inside. Dominic had done the unthinkable. He rented the entire fucking Louvre. Not a tour. Not an after-hours visit. The entire building. Empty. Silent. Ours. “My girls deserves to be worshipped,” he’d said, his hand wrapped tightly around my throat, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “In the presence of art that could never touch her.” And now we were here—beneath chandeliers that had lit centuries of longing. Paintings stared silently from gilded frames as if begging to be part of what was about to happen. Zoey’s heels clicked softly down the endless hallway, her silk robe fluttering like temptation. I followed behind her on bare feet, dressed in nothing but a corset and matching leash. I was already wet. Dominic’s footsteps echoed behind us like thunder.