Novel & Cerita The Professor And The Madman

Lucifer was getting very angry at the constant questions challenging his orders. 'Enough.' He roared, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the Professor collapse to the floor, quivering in fear and begging not to be hurt. 'It is a good job I need you to prepare the female, you pathetic piece of garbage. Now do your fucking job, you have half an hour.' The professor whimpered back at him, 'But, but, Sir, you s, said, an hour?' He stammered only to be grabbed by the neck,

“Can you shut up and let us eat in peace?” "Actually, I expect hospitality from you. I heard you are a professor. Is that true?” Shanon touched Anthony's thigh and gave him a code to stay calm. The thing Tessa wanted most was to screw them over. Shanon warned Anthony not to give the woman what she wanted. “I'm a professor in the economics department.” “Wow, cool. How about you, Jamie?” Smiling stiffly, Jammie answered with slightly forced calm. “I'm an architect.”

They’d caught her on camera going into my hostel and it was dated around the time my side of the room had been torn apart. The P.I was right to assume that there could have been two people involved. Two psycho relatives. “Professor Deric is moody today.” Jack whispered beside me. I rolled my eyes at him. “He’s always moody.” “Nah. Today’s different.” “How would you know?” I was turning defensive all of a sudden. “Guess who’s moody too.” I frowned at Jack. He was right, I was moody too but I was going to blame it on PMS.

Nick tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering the insult instead of reacting to it. “I like to take my time with things,” he replies casually, stretching his legs out under the desk. “Sometimes it’s good to make decisions,” Mr. Madden says steadily. “You can always change your mind. So tell me.” His voice is calm, but the tension underneath it is sharp enough to cut. Nick stares at him. Mr. Madden tilts his head slightly in return. It looks like a warning. And suddenly the resemblance is impossible to ignore. In that moment he doesn’t look like a professor anymore—he looks like exactly what he is.

I tightly clenched my teeth, forcefully swallowing the blood down, refusing to let Marcus see me show any pain or weakness. “I don't need that book,” I thought coldly, forcing the golden light in my veins to stay hidden. “I already lived this year. I remember every single word of this l Just then, the heavy wooden door opened, and Professor Pendelton walked into the room. He was an older, distinguished beta man with sharp eyes. He stopped, looking at the pile of black ash on the floor, and then looked at Marcus and me. "What happened here?" the professor asked, his voice strict.

His shoulders are broad, his dark hair is perfectly messy and his eyes scanned the students once before he spoke. "Professor Harlan, thank you for the warm-up," he said with his deep and smooth voice. "I'm Professor Adrian Knight. I'll be taking over this Literature course for the rest of the semester." Whispers spread across the hall and Juliet stared. He looked too young to be a full professor, maybe early thirties, but his presence filled the room. He set his bag on the desk and turned to the class. "Forbidden love," he continued, picking up right where they left off. "The kind that destroys careers, families, even lives. Why do we keep writing about it? Why do we keep reading it?"

“Nude.” My entire body went rigid. “What the hell?” His expression remained frustratingly composed. “You heard me.” “You cannot be serious.” “I’m perfectly serious.” I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, stepping backward and putting space between us before I did something stupid, like forget this man was my professor and throw the nearest object at his head. “You told me to follow you to your office, blackmail me with my scholarship, and now you’re asking me to take my clothes off for you?”

I muttered under my breath. Even thinking of him brought a sting of irritation. His smug tone, the way he dissected every argument I made, the way he looked at me like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. It was infuriating. And yet, there was something strange about the comparison that flickered in my mind, the confidence of the man from the party and the quiet dominance of my professor. Both sharp. Both intense. That made me laugh. It wasn’t the same. Dalton was too controlled, too closed off. My mystery man had been all heat and hunger. Brothers maybe, wouldn’t that be a twist.

The class was silent, waiting for him to speak. "Good afternoon. This is psychology twenty-two hundred, the study of deviant behavior. I'm Professor Theodore Ashford. Dr. Ashford is also fine, " His modulated, deep voice resonated within the walls of the room with ease. "Now, I know half the class is here to just pass. The other half are actually up for the challenge." The sound of uneasy students shifting in their seats filled the air. Isa saw a glimmer of a smirk appear on the professor's face in response to the discomfort.

The sight before me had my throat tightening and eyes wide. There was a tall, handsome man… A tall, half naked man. A half naked god of a man standing with low dress pants and a very good looking confused expression on his face was the man who was between my legs last night and something told me he was professor Anthony Marison. “Damn.” Was all I could say.