Novel & Cerita Romance Books Teacher Student

Chapter 1 Like every guy on the planet, I had the hots for one of my teachers. The name of my crush was Mrs. Gavelle , my senior year English teacher, was a conservative woman in her late thirties. Mrs. Gavelle was a beautiful lady. She had short red hair, which stopped a little before her shoulders, a dark pair of chocolate brown eyes and a simply gorgeous face - the type I could've stared at for hours.

He never shielded me from the heartache in the pages of those books but used them as a tool to teach me about life, history, hopes, and dreams. It wasn’t until my teen years that I discovered my love of romance. What began by dipping my toes into the historical greats affectionately termed ‘bodice rippers’ took on a different tone when I was a senior in high school. I discovered the world of erotic romance. I’d always been taught that literature was a gateway for the imagination so I never dreamed that some people would frown on the romance genre as lower quality literature. After all, with a history of such utter trash like Wuthering Heights and The Old Man and the Sea being named classics,

she asked, and I shook my head. I only knew the information that our teacher shared with me about why she was resigning. She planned to teach in another country because her family was migrating. My teacher likes to share her life stories with me since we're always together in school. The dean chose me to be her student assistant, so we're always together here in school, which I'm thankful for because I get to have free lunch. My teacher always treats me to lunch, and I don't know why, but maybe it's because she pities me and my difficult life. I once told her about my struggles, and she asked me why I chose to be a scholar of the school when it's so difficult, especially for a working studen

She looked stunning and no less than a model, more a nerd anymore. Sighing, he shakes off his thoughts and jogs to catch up. Literature classes were fun for Cassandra alone. She was smiling like a fool, remembering her own homeroom teacher in the future. How she fell in love with the 35 year old man and she who swore to never get into a relationship slid in with ease. "Cassandra... you're creeping me out, child." The teacher says, her expression turning to a smile when her student says, "Your classes are so interesting today ma'am!" Chirps the girl.

“The one you called cold and intimidating.” The short distance made their breaths caress each other. They exchanged warmth even without significant contact. Only their eyes locked as Lucas revealed his honesty. “As usual, there's always an exception for everything.” *

“It’s not just dangerous, Professor. It’s knowing you shouldn’t but your body screams yes anyway. The way she risks everything for that raw hungry connection. The kind where you’d let him ruin you and thank him after.” A couple classmates chuckled but Marcus didn’t laugh. His dark eyes stayed on mine a beat too long. One corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smirk. “Exactly. Ruin. That’s the word people dance around. They call it passion in novels but in real life they slap labels on it. Student. Teacher. Age gap. Taboo. Yet here we are dissecting it like we aren’t all imagining what it would feel like to cross that line.” My nipples tightened under my thin tank top. I crossed

“That’s right, Mr. Zimmer. I got engaged to Layla before she was enrolled. I didn’t want our relationship to make it into the forum, but some people started speculating about us maliciously. So, I need to make things clear to protect my fiancee’s reputation.” He even stressed the word “fiancee.” “Hence, the student-teacher romance is plain ridiculous. She didn’t pull strings to become my teaching assistant. She got it through her own abilities. That’s all. I’m hanging up now.” He then hung up with a sharp snap and did not give Mr. Zimmer a chance to react. Once he put his phone away, he reached out to me as the others watched with their jaws wide open. “Let’s go.” Like a puppet on strings, I

Dark hair that looks like he runs his fingers through it, sharp jawline, and these intense green eyes that seem to see right through you. He’s wearing a fitted button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and I catch a glimpse of what looks like tattoos peeking out from under the fabric. This is not what teachers are supposed to look like. This is what men in romance novels look like. "Bonjour, class," he says with a bright smile, his voice carrying just a hint of an accent that makes my stomach do weird flips. "My name is Dominic Montelli , and I'll be your French teacher this semester." He moves around the classroom with this charming elegance and quiet confidence that’s completely different fr

Her eyes searched for me, or I just wished for this. Besides, I’m her teacher and older; she probably dreams of one of her friends. I sighed. In our world, any romantic tie between teacher and student is forbidden, not only because of the power imbalance but because it is believed such bonds weaken loyalty to the Academy and cloud judgment in battle. The consequences for breaking this rule are severe, but I can't stop wanting her. Okay, rotate, I shouted. Astrid partnered with her, her smile devious. I will snap her neck if she hurts her, my demon Zor spoke in my head.

And I wanted to focus on the delightful currents charging my imagination that I couldn't be bothered to give more than a smile and a nod. By the time of the first lecture, I was wet down there, and my nipples were hard and sensitive. And all I could think of was the myriad of positions we've tried over the past week. “Romance,” the prof began, “the experience of love or infatuation….” At the cue, I pushed through the bubbling under my skin and opened my laptop and then my lecture notes—and my phone trembled softly. Picking it up, I saw a text from Hunter and hastily opened it.