All Chapters of TRANGRESSION: A Collection Of Forbidden Desires : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Cassian Voss had a reputation that followed him through every corridor of the university like a second shadow.He was twenty-four, in his final year of law, and nothing touched him. Girls tried. They always tried. Soft smiles in seminars, lingering looks across the library, invitations delivered with careful nonchalance after late study groups. Cassian shut every single one of them down with the same flat, polite disinterest. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t soften. He didn’t get hard for attention, no matter how deliberate or well-practiced.People called him cold. Ruthless, even. He didn’t correct them. Control was the only thing that had ever felt clean.Then Nora Ellis transferred in.She was quiet. Average height, dark hair usually pulled into a low ponytail, the kind of face that didn’t demand attention. She sat in the back of the advanced constitutional law seminar, took notes in small, precise handwriting, and never once looked at him like she wanted something. No lingering glances.

By the fourth week it had stopped being a series of incidents and become a pattern.Cassian would see Nora in the morning seminar and spend the next fifty minutes half-hard and silently furious about it. They would find each other within the hour—sometimes in Patel’s office, sometimes in the third-floor stairwell, once in a locked study room on the second floor of the library that Nora had somehow known the code to. The sex was rarely slow. It was sharp, necessary, almost punishing in its intensity. Cassian fucked her like he was still trying to work her out of his system. Nora took it with the same calm focus she brought to everything else, and came hard enough each time that he could feel it for hours afterward.The control he had spent years cultivating was eroding in small, irreversible ways.He stopped sitting near the front of lectures. He started leaving buildings by side exits so he wouldn’t risk running into her in a crowded corridor when he wasn’t prepared. None of it worked

The new term started on a grey Monday morning, and Cassian realized within the first hour that nothing had reset. He walked into the advanced seminar and felt it the second Nora entered the room—same quiet presence, same low ponytail, same unremarkable sweater that somehow still ruined his concentration. His cock began to thicken before she even sat down. The old instinct to be angry about it flared briefly, then died. There was no point anymore. She was the exception. Fighting it only wasted energy he preferred to spend elsewhere. They lasted until the end of the lecture. This time they didn’t bother with Patel’s old office or the stairwell. Nora simply looked at him as the room emptied and said, under her breath, “My place is closer.” Cassian followed her across campus and the short stretch of streets to her building without a word. The moment her apartment door closed he had her against it, mouth hard on hers, hands already under her skirt. She was wet. He groaned at the dis

Sienna had just turned twenty-one when the arrangement with her parents fell apart.She was in her fourth year at the university, living in a small off-campus apartment that still smelled faintly of the cheap paint the landlord had used over the summer. Most nights she kept to a quiet routine—lectures, readings, the occasional group project that ran late. The only real secret she kept was the one that lived inside her phone.For three years she had FaceTimed a man whose face she had never seen.It started in her first year, almost by accident. A late-night link in a private forum, a request for “camera off, voice only, no names.” She had been lonely, restless, and curious enough to dial. His voice came through low and controlled, older, the kind of calm that settled under her skin. He never asked her to turn the camera on. She never offered. They spoke about ordinary things at first—music, insomnia, the pressure of exams—until the conversations shifted, grew quieter, more deliberate.

The second morning began with the weight of Julian’s arm across her waist and the low ache between her legs.Sienna woke slowly in his bed, sheets tangled around their bodies, the early light filtering through half-drawn blinds. For a few seconds she simply lay still, cataloguing the differences between this and every faceless night that had come before—the solid heat of him at her back, the faint scent of his skin, the unmistakable evidence of what they had done still slick on her thighs. The anonymous voice from her phone now had a body, a face, a name that carried years of family dinners and lecture halls inside it.Julian stirred behind her. His hand flexed on her stomach, then slid lower almost absently, fingers brushing through the dampness between her legs. A soft, rough sound left his throat when he felt how wet she still was.“You’re awake,” he murmured against the back of her neck.“Yes.”He didn’t ask if she regretted it. Instead he pushed two fingers into her slowly, testi