All Chapters of Forbidden Lecture: My Professor's Secret Craving: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

One line.Aria stared at it, blinking, waiting for another to appear like some delayed curse. But it never changed to two lines“Omg!” Her knees wobbled with sudden relief. Air rushed out of her lungs in a rush that made her almost choke.“Lena!” she yelled, her voice breaking, “It’s… negative!”The door flung open immediately. The door was locked, so Lena must’ve picked it or it hadn’t caught properly. She burst in, eyes wide.“Negative?” she repeated.Aria nodded, laughter and tears bubbling together. “Negative. Just… late. Or stressed. I don’t know.”Lena sagged against the doorframe, one hand pressed to her chest. “Jesus Christ, Aria. Don’t do that to me. I am too pretty for this level of cortisol.”Aria let out a shaky laugh, then suddenly she was crying, like really crying, tears spilling hot down her cheeks. Lena crossed the small space in two strides and pulled her into a hug, the test tube still clutched in Aria’s hand.“I was so sure,” Aria managed between breaths. “I

Jason stood at the front of the room, his hands on the lectern, as the projector behind him hummed. Students rustled papers, opened laptops, the usual first few minutes of settling down. Ethan sat on the side with a notebook, ready to jump in.Aria was three rows back, not in her usual seat at the front. Not close enough where he could feel her breath when she leaned forward to ask a question.It was good. She was his student. No matter how much he craved her, he needed that reminder.“Last week,” Jason said, his voice steady, “we started talking about narrative unreliability. Today we’re going to push that further.”He clicked to the next slide, lines of text and a book cover appearing on the screen. The words poured out easily—he could do this in his sleep. But the problem was that his brain was not on the text.Every time a student spoke, his gaze scanned naturally around the room. And every time, they would land on her.The way her pen moved quickly. The way she chewed the cap.

The fluorescent light in Jason’s office shone faintly the next evening after classes, casting long shadows across the stacks of papers and the open laptop on his desk.Ethan glanced at his watch and looked at the professor. “Prof, I have to leave now,” he said, sliding a folder toward the center of the desk. “YI have that thing I have with my mum. I told you about it last week.”“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Jason said. “You're free to go then.”“Thank you,” Ethan said, then turned to Aria. “There’s a student from section three who emailed about an extension. I flagged the relevant policy, but you can sign off.”Aria nodded. “Alright. I can draft the response tonight if you want.”“That’s perfect. Goodnight, then.”The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence dropped like a curtain.Jason cleared his throat, not looking up. “The extension. Section three. Let’s just confirm the policy before you draft.”Aria walked over to where he sat and leaned in to look at his laptop. She could faintly sm

In Jason’s world, only controlled image and PR on overdrive was all that existed. Tonight’s charity gala was no exception.It hummed with the low thrum of wealth; crystal glasses clinking, murmured deals sealed over wine, and the faint strains of a string quartet weaving through conversations about endowments and tax write-offs. Waiters drifted like ghosts in black and white, offering bite-sized luxury on silver trays.Jason adjusted his cufflinks, the starched collar of his Dior tuxedo already feeling like a noose. Victoria stood beside him, a vision in emerald silk that hugged her curves like liquid money. Her hand rested lightly on his arm, the perfect picture of a devoted wife. Her diamond earrings caught the chandelier light, scattering it like blazing signals."Smile," she murmured, her lips barely moving. "Mark and Elise are at two o'clock."Jason forced his expression to look like something resembling warmth. Mark Lawson—tall with the easy confidence of a man whose family firm

The Fairmont Royal York ballroom looked like a postcard for a life Aria wasn’t sure she would ever belong to. Glass walls framed the city, lights glittering in the early evening like someone had spilled diamonds over the dark.This was not a student party. This was… power.Aria tightened her grip on her clutch as Lena brushed her arm with the back of her hand, a quick, grounding touch.“You’re okay,” Lena whispered. “You look like you were born here.”“I’m not so sure about that,” Aria whispered back. “It feels like we’re trespassing.”“Good,” Lena said. “The best things in life start with a little trespass.”Across the room, Dean Hargrove laughed at something a board member said, his silver hair gleaming under the chandelier light. A cluster of senior faculty stood nearby. Then she saw him, and her lungs forgot how to function for a second.Jason stood near the Dean in a black, expensive Armani black suit, his tie knotted perfectly, his dark hair slicked backward, the picture of calm