Accueil / Romance / FORBIDDEN HANDS: My Cold Professor / Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 10

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The Dare

Cherish’s POVI didn't do relationships.Not anymore.Two years was long enough to teach me that forever was just a pretty word people used until they found something better. Or someone closer. I had stopped believing in soft promises and late-night confessions. What I believed in now was simple: fun when I wanted it, silence when I didn't, and never letting anyone close enough to leave a mark.Tonight was supposed to stay simple.The club pulsed around me like a living thing. Purple and pink lights cut through the dark, flashing over bodies that moved too close and laughed too loud. The bass was heavy enough to feel in my ribs. I leaned against the bar in my black Led Zeppelin crop top and short plaid skirt, nursing a drink I didn't really want. My long hair stuck slightly to the back of my neck from the heat of too many people packed into one space.Lila was already three drinks ahead of me.She appeared at my side with flushed cheeks and that dangerous sparkle in her eyes that a

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-09

Nothing Underneath

Cherish’s POVI should have walked away.That would have been the smart thing to do. Smile, shrug, tell Lila the dare was impossible, and go find someone easier. Someone my age. Someone who looked at me like I was already half-naked in his mind.Instead, I stayed.He still hadn't moved from his seat. One elbow rested on the bar, glass untouched, dark eyes steady on my face like he was waiting to see how far I was willing to go. The club lights painted purple streaks across his sharp cheekbones. Up close he was even more unfair—tall, broad, and cold in a way that made my skin feel too warm.I stepped forward until I stood between his parted knees. The position forced me closer than I planned. My thighs brushed the inside of his. The music was loud enough to hide a gunshot, but somehow the space between us still felt quiet."You said I haven't seduced you yet," I said.He tilted his head slightly. "You haven't."I leaned in just enough that only he could hear me. "Then let's fix that

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-09

Professor Crowe

Cherish’s POV I was late. My head still throbbed from last night’s leftover frustration, and the taste of regret sat heavy on my tongue. I pushed the lecture hall door open with my shoulder, already preparing an apology for the professor, when the world tilted. He stood at the front of the room. Same dark wavy hair. Same sharp jaw. Same cold, unreadable eyes that had watched me fall apart under his hands less than twelve hours ago. Professor Dalton Crowe wrote something on the whiteboard in clean, controlled strokes, as if he hadn’t had his fingers on my bare skin in a crowded club the night before. As if he hadn’t left me aching and humiliated in a bathroom stall. My feet rooted to the floor. Someone behind me cleared their throat, forcing me to move. I slid into the nearest empty seat at the back, heart slamming so hard I was sure the entire room could hear it. He turned. Our eyes met for one brief second. No surprise. No smirk. Nothing. Just that same calm, assessing look that mad

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-11

Other Hands

Cherish’s POV I told myself I was still in control. After the way Dalton touched me in his office — the slow stroke of his thumb, the heat of his palm just under my breast — I needed proof. Proof that my body still belonged to me. Proof that one older man with cold eyes and dangerous hands hadn’t ruined every other touch. So I said yes when a guy from my economics class, Ryan, asked me out for drinks. Ryan was easy. Tall enough, good smile, zero complications. Exactly what I used to want. We met at a bar near campus, loud enough that conversation stayed light. Two drinks in, his hand settled on my thigh. I let it stay. When he leaned in to kiss me, I kissed him back. It was fine. Familiar. Safe. We ended up at his apartment. The door clicked shut and his mouth found mine again, hungrier this time. I kissed him harder, trying to force something to spark. His hands slid under my shirt, warm and eager, and for a few seconds I almost believed it would work. Then his palm covered my breas

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-11

Office Hours

Cherish’s POV  The email arrived at 4:12 p.m.  Subject: Office HoursFrom: Professor Dalton Crowe Come to my office after your last class. Don’t be late.  No explanation. No soft language. Just an order wrapped in polite academic formatting.  I told myself I wouldn’t go. I lasted exactly eleven minutes before I started packing my bag. My hands were already restless. My body remembered the weight of his palm on my waist from two days ago, the slow stroke of his thumb, the way my skin had lit up like it had been waiting for him.  I hated that he could do that with so little effort. By the time I reached the faculty building, most of the lights on the upper floors were off. The hallway outside his office was quiet enough that I could hear my own pulse. I knocked once.  “Come in.”  I stepped inside. The second the door clicked shut behind me, he reached past my shoulder and turned the lock. The soft sound felt louder than it should have.  Dalton stood close enough that I had to til

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-11

Still Shaking

Cherish’s POV  I drove home with the windows down even though the night air was cold.  My shirt still smelled like his office. Like paper and cologne and the faint trace of what we had just done. Every time I shifted in the seat, the fabric dragged over my nipples and sent another unwanted pulse between my legs. He hadn’t even taken my bra off properly. He had just tugged the cups down and put his mouth on me like he had every right.  I could still feel it.  The wet heat of his tongue. The way he sucked. The low sound he made when I arched into him. My body hadn’t gotten the message that it was over. I was still swollen, still sensitive, still embarrassingly wet.  By the time I locked my apartment door behind me, my hands were trembling again.  I dropped my bag on the floor and walked straight to the bathroom. I didn’t bother with the light. I turned the shower on hot, stripped quickly, and stepped under the water like it could wash him off me. It didn’t. The moment the spray hi

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-12

His Place

Cherish’s POV  I told myself I was only going to talk.  That lasted until the door shut behind me.  Dalton’s apartment was exactly what I expected—dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, city lights spilling across expensive furniture. It smelled like him. Clean and something deeper. The second the lock clicked, his hands were on me.  He pushed me back against the wall hard enough that my breath left in a soft rush. One hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my jaw as he kissed me like he’d been starving for it.  There was no slow build this time. His tongue slid against mine, filthy and sure, and I moaned into his mouth before I could stop myself.  “Been thinking about this since you walked out of my office,” he muttered against my lips. “You left shaking. Did you touch yourself when you got home?”  I didn’t answer. He bit my bottom lip.  “Did you?”  “…Yes.”  “Good girl.”  His hands moved under my shirt, dragging it up and off in one motion. My bra followed. He tosse

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-12

Running

Cherish’s POV  I lasted three days.  Three days of silence. Three days of sitting in the back of his lecture hall with my eyes fixed on my notebook like the words on the page could save me.  On the second day I skipped his class entirely. I sat in the library instead, staring at the same paragraph for an hour while my phone stayed dark.  He didn’t text.  He didn’t call.  He didn’t even look at me when I finally showed up again.  The silence was worse than anything he could have said.  I kept replaying the night at his apartment.  The way he had put his mouth between my legs like he had all the time in the world.  The way he had held my wrists down when I tried to touch him back.  The way he had come on my stomach while staring straight into my eyes and promised the next time he would be inside me.  I had left while he was still asleep, sneaking out like a coward, and every hour since then had felt like waiting for a punishment that never came.  By the third night Lila

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-12

No More Patience

Cherish’s POV  The second the apartment door shut behind us, something in him snapped.  Dalton’s mouth crashed onto mine, hard and hungry, one hand already in my hair and the other gripping my waist hard enough to leave marks.  I made a broken sound against his lips as he walked me backward until my back hit the wall.  Keys hit the floor. My bag followed. Neither of us cared.  “Three days,” he said against my mouth, voice rough. “Three days of silence after you walked out on me.”  “I—”  He kissed me again, deeper, swallowing whatever excuse I was about to make. His hands slid under my shirt, palms hot against my skin, and in one rough motion he pulled it over my head and tossed it aside.  My bra followed just as fast. The cool air of the apartment touched my bare breasts for only a second before his hands and mouth replaced it.  “Ah—fuck—” The moan left me before I could stop it when he sucked one nipple hard, teeth scraping just enough to make my hips jerk.  “That’s it,” h

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-12

Elena

Cherish’s POV  We were still on the floor.  My back pressed against the cool wood, his body heavy and warm over mine, both of us trying to catch our breath..  The apartment was quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the faint hum of the city outside. My mind was still hazy, skin still sensitive, the reality of what we had just done settling in slowly.  Then his phone lit up on the floor beside us.  The screen glowed in the dark. Elena.  Dalton reached for it on instinct, silencing the call with his thumb, but it was too late. I had already seen the name.  I stared at the dark screen. The same name he had mentioned so casually that first night at the club, when his hand was still under my shirt.  “She’s still calling you,” I said.  He didn’t answer right away. He pulled out of me carefully, sat back on his heels, and ran a hand through his messy hair. The absence of him made everything feel sharper.  “She wants to meet,” he said finally. “To talk about our son.”  

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-10-12

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