Academy's Undercover Professor Novel 353 Novels & Stories

"Or should I say Noah? The perfect little student who can't look me in the eye during class, but here you are fingering yourself like a desperate slut, asking strangers to watch.” My face was on fire. How did he know? The heat in my stomach made me panic. I tried to turn away, but he held me down harder, and his erection pushed against my butt crack through his trousers. It was thick and hard—oh my god, it felt huge. "Professor, please—" "Shut your mouth." Three of his veined fingers pushed into mine, stretching my lips wide.

At twenty-nine. She was thirty-six now. Not the youngest professor anymore. But still the most watched. And she preferred it that way. Alessandra set her leather briefcase on the podium without breaking eye contact with the room. She didn’t rush. She let the silence stretch just a few seconds too long. “Welcome,” she said evenly. “If you’re here, you either couldn’t get into Constitutional Theory… or you enjoy watching powerful people fall.” A few nervous laughs. A few knowing ones.

Maya was tiny, but she could body a linebacker if pissed off enough. We walked to the lecture hall. I kept my head down. My heart still felt like it had been wrung out and hung to dry. Inside, people were whispering. Not about the fight. Something else. “Did you hear about the new prof?” “Yeah, I think he’s teaching Trial Advocacy.” “He’s supposed to be fine.” “Girl, I saw a picture. He’s giving... big dick energy.” Maya perked up. “New professor?” She slid into her seat next to me and pulled out her phone. “Hold on, let me check the group chat.”

I’m clad in all black including a mask and a plain baseball hat just in case. You can never be too careful. I hang in the shadows of an alley by his usual spot where some of his friends smoke and drink. It’s behind the philosophy building, one of the older ones on the campus. ‘How do you think they snuck all that in?’ I strike up a conversation with Ezra as we wait. ‘Probably bribed a guard.’ ‘That’s the most obvious answer.’ A groan leaves my throat. ‘Give me some borderline impossible conspiracy theory.’ ‘There is an underground bunker where Professor Sloane makes her own brand of alcohol with her Alchemy skills and deals them to students.’

What could be in such a secret place that would require the intervention of the Alpha Council? I watched cautiously as Professor Albert pulled a set of lock picks from an inside pocket of his cloak. With quick, precise movements that suggested surprising skill for an academic, he manipulated the lock. A faint click echoed in the silence of the night, and the heavy door opened with a mournful creak. The professor slipped inside, disappearing into the darkness. I froze for a moment. Surprise and curiosity struggled to prevail. What secrets did the forbidden wing of the academy hide? And what did Professor Albert have to do with them?

“The way you led your team through impossible odds, the perfect score on the final exam. I believe you’re going to do well here.” Say something intelligent, Daisy. Stop staring at him like a lovesick fool. “I-I hope so,” I mumble. “The academy seems... intense.” “It is,” he agrees. “But you survived the Warrior Competition, so you will survive this place. Just remember—” “Liam Kingston!” We both turn to see a professor striding towards us, his cashmere coat waving in the afternoon breeze. He looks older than Professor Navarro with silver strands threading through his dark hair and a facial expression of perpetual irritation.

Academic opportunities could not. “When do we leave?” “One hour. Station.” I packed fast and reached the station with coffee in one hand and my laptop bag on my shoulder. Professor Reed was already there. Dark wool coat, pale shirt, wind-touched hair, leather briefcase. He looked less like an external reviewer and more like a university brochure designed to ruin people’s judgment. His eyes paused on my coffee. “Morning.” “Good morning, Professor Reed.” “We’re off campus today. Daniel is fine.” I pretended not to hear him and looked for my ticket.

"Riley hacked your computer and made sure ads of The University of Miami popped up every time you were on the internet." "But you've been the English professor for three years? How did you know I was going to choose English Literature?" "We did our research on you, it was the most likely course to take, so I went undercover being the type of professor you'd want to be taught by. I needed three years to build a reputation."

He says, annoyance latched to his tone. What's his fucking problem? Tessa holds my hands and nods her head gently. I sigh and we both walk out of the door. "Why does he always keep lecturing?", I grimace. "Maybe he's a lecturer at this Academy?" Tessa replies. "Hmm. Maybe you're right." I think over it. I don't know half of the Proffesors here, except Professor Sheila. That brings me to the point… "What exactly do they teach here?" I ask.