(Lily's POV)
It's my first day at this prestigious university, and honestly i'm eager to know what this school has for me. On the beautiful sunny Monday morning, I walked into the lecture hall. It was cold, almost clinical, but I wasn't bothered in any way. I’d always preferred sitting in the front row, close enough to catch every word the professor said and every detail of their expression. Today, however, the front row wasn’t just a strategic choice for academic success. Something inside me had been urging me forward since the moment I arrived, though I didn’t fully understand why. Maybe it's because I'm new here, but in contrast to my regular position, I actually wanted to sit anywhere else except the front row, but there is a pull taking me to my beloved front row. When he walked in, everything seemed to make more sense. Professor Victor Graham. The name had been printed neatly on the syllabus I’d scanned over the weekend, but it hadn’t prepared me for this. He wasn’t the regular professor you'd meet in every school. I mean, professors were supposed to be dull—bookish men with crooked ties, graying hair, old-fashioned, and everything that could possibly distinguish them from being in vogue. But this man was nothing of the sort. He strode into the room with confidence, a silent declaration of his authority that filled the entire space. He wore a tailored navy blue suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame, his crisp white shirt open just at the collar, sharp and clearly defined, possessing an utmost degree of firmness and freshness, and revealing a sliver of tanned skin. His dark eyes were piercing, scanning the room with a sharpness that made my breath hitch. He didn’t just look at the class; he assessed us, each and every one. “Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. It rolled through the room, effortlessly commanding perfect silence. “Welcome to Philosophy 301. I’m Professor Victor Graham.” Professor Graham's voice was calm and brave. The sound of his voice sent shivers down my spine. It was rich, warm, and devastatingly male, wrapping around me like a velvet cloak; it was like no other. My pulse quickened, and I crossed my legs tightly, hoping to steady the heat building between them. When his gaze passed over me, I felt it like a physical touch. My stomach flipped, and a strange heat bloomed low in my belly. I ducked my head, pretending to adjust my notebook, but the sensation lingered. It wasn't just his words; it's the way he carried himself. Confident, unshaken. My focus shouldn't be on the way his shirt rested on his chest when he leaned a little bit on the pulpit, or how his jawline looked sharper im the dim light of the lecture hall. But I couldn't help it, no matter how I tried to stop, I just couldn't. I’d never felt this way before. At twenty-one, I was still a virgin, not out of some moral code but simply because nothing had ever ignited me. I've never been completely into boys. The two I dated in high school and college had been sweet, attentive even, but their touches had left me cold. I’d wondered if something was wrong with me, if I was incapable of desire. But now, sitting in this lecture hall, staring at the man at the podium, I knew that wasn’t true, and something mysterious is how he's doing this to me unconsciously. Every movement he made was mesmerizing. The way his hands gestured as he spoke, the way his lips curved over each word, the slight crease in his brow as he emphasized a point—it all drew me in. Maybe I'm just not a baby anymore, and I've moved on from being the young teenager I was. Little did I know that my nipples tightened beneath my blouse, pressing against the lace of my bra in a way that was almost painful. My skin prickled with goosebumps, but it wasn’t from the cold; it was from something I could explain, but yet couldn't understand why. Before the lecture started, he asked to go through the first page of our manual so we can have a little prepared of what he Is about to lecture on since that's where the lecture is driven from. I've read that before so I didn't really bother to focus on it. He noticed it wasn't, but he didn't look at me right away, but when he finally did, his gaze seemed... heavier. My heart shattered and I immediately controlled myself to start reading it. By this time, the space felt overwhelming. Since it was the first day, the wasn't too occupied I guess a lot of students haven't resumed so the space felt quiet but the sound of his voice? It drowned everything out. He began the lecture, his voice weaving effortlessly through concepts I should have been paying attention to. I tried to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting, completely in another world, a world full of fantasies. What would it feel like to have those hands on me? To have that commanding voice murmuring my name, telling me what to do? The heat in my body is built with every passing minute. My thighs pressed together, desperate to ease the ache forming between them. I could feel my pulse throbbing in places I didn’t dare acknowledge, and it terrified me how much I wanted him, even though it's crazy, but I crazily do. He posed a question to the class, and before I could stop myself, I raised my hand. “Yes, you,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. My stomach flipped at the sound of his voice. “Lily, isn’t it?” He knew my name. I felt it was something different, but it felt like something that is. My name sounded different in his voice, sharper, more important. "You're the only new student here, so who wouldn't know your name? That's nothing special." My inner self echoed in my head. “Yes, Professor,” I managed, surprised my voice didn’t tremble. I answered his question as clearly as I could, though my heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out my thoughts. “Interesting perspective,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smile. It wasn’t a generic, polite smile—it was knowing, almost amused, as if he could see right through me. My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t look away. His gaze lingered just a second too long, and I felt an electric thrill shoot through me. Did he know what I was feeling? Could he tell how my body reacted to him? The rest of the lecture passed in a haze. I couldn’t escape the sense that his attention kept drifting back to me. It felt like he was focusing on me and noticed every single thing I'm feeling. Every time his dark eyes met mine, it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. I told myself I was just imagining it, but deep down, I didn’t believe that. By the time the lecture ended, I was a mess; my skin tingled, and I pressed my thigh together . I've never felt this type of connection with someone, never before. My thighs ached from being clenched together the whole time, and my chest felt tight with unspent energy. I stayed in my seat, pretending to organize my notes as the other students filed out. I needed a moment to get myself together and to calm the river of water flowing inside of me. He was still on the podium all this while, trying to get his teaching materials together. "What's he packing that's taking this long?" I thought in my mind. But then his voice disrupted my thought and cut through the quiet. “Lily.” My heart stopped. Slowly, I turned to face him. “Yes, Professor?” He was watching me, his dark eyes intense and unreadable. “You seem to have a good grasp of the material.” The compliment shouldn’t have sent a rush of heat through me, but the way he said it—soft, deliberate—made my knees feel weak. “Thank you, Professor,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, neither of us moved. His eyes stayed on mine, as though he was searching for something unusual. Then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, and turned back to his notes, picked them up, and left. Honestly, this whole feeling isn't normal. Students don't feel this way about their professors, and professors definitely do not feel this way about their students. Not that he felt anything—he couldn't. Yet my chest tightened every time I think about it, my body betrays me. I waited for a few minutes before I stood up and walked slowly out of the room before I could embarrass myself further, my cheeks burning and my thoughts spinning. As I walked down the hallway, the memory of his gaze haunted me. Had I imagined it? The way his eyes lingered, the softness in his voice—was it all in my head? Or had he felt it too, that strange, electric pull? I needed a distraction, something to keep my mind away from the relaying of the every glace and words. While strolling outside, I met a group of three coursemates, José, Sophie, and Davies. We discussed a little, and since they've been students here since first year, they knew a whole lot more about this school than me. I'm not going to lie; they were all wonderful people to talk to. That was definitely not the highlight of my day, not even close to it, because even during the interaction, my mind was somewhere else, with someone else. I thought about his gaze heavy and unshakeable, as he looked at me before he left after he complimented me earlier. My pulse raced, my thoughts spinning. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe... It was everything.The city buzzed around me as I walked home, but it felt like I was moving in a haze. Cars honked, distant voices called out, and the occasional bark of a dog echoed down the street; you know how it is, but none of it registered. My body was still hummed with an energy I couldn’t shake, every step a reminder of the tension coiling deep inside me.Professor Victor Graham. His name alone sent a shiver through me.I climbed the stairs to my apartment, my bag slung over my shoulder and my mind spinning. The air in the hallway was thick and stale, but when I opened my door and stepped inside, it felt no different. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes; I wasn't even the one contemplating my movement.The silence of the apartment only amplified the storm inside me.I leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. My skin was still flushed, heat radiating from my cheeks down to the hollow of my throat. My blouse clung to me in all the wr
The strange thing that happened the other time had been sitting in the back of my mind since that moment. I was trying my best to always not think about it, but I couldn’t let it go, and it made me feel the exact same way every time.The syllabus had clearly stated Professor Graham’s office hours. Every lecture was open to all students taking his course, no appointment necessary. But even at that, he was a very respected figure and considered a very strict, no-nonsense person by other students, so he was one of the least-visited professors in the school. But I had to, and this wasn’t even about class—it was for myself.I stood in front of my mirror, brushing my hair for what felt like the hundredth time. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears. The thin sweater I wore hugged my curves just enough without being too obvious. My jeans were fitted but not tight. Casual. Harmless.Except I didn’t feel harmless.I felt like I was walking straight into the lion’s den, and
(Victor's POV)The mornings felt colder lately, though it wasn’t the weather. The chill that had settled in my life had little to do with the seasons and everything to do with Emily.Our marriage had always been built on shared goals, mutual ambition, and the sense that we were moving forward together. But somewhere along the way, we moved from that to not having a real conversation in months.And the intimacy? That had disappeared when she left for the capital. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and it's been six months. That was how long it had been since we’d been together, in every sense of the word.I could still remember the last time. The last time we shared as a couple. The mechanical rhythm, the absence of passion, the way she had rolled over and gone straight to sleep afterward. Even before that? It was seventeen weeks. I know she's not to be fully blamed for it. As a career-inclined person, the hustle and bustle of her job is completely overwhelming.When she’d announce
(Lily's POV) The rain started pouring suddenly, like the cloud couldn't hold it anymore; it didn't even leave a sign that it was going to happen. The water was dropping so heavily, and I stood drenched in the lobby, rainwater pooling around my feet as the storm outside seemed to seep into the very space around me, the sound of raindrops pounding against the roof and walls a deafening accompaniment to my own ragged breathing. The water around my feet was so cold that I was starting to shiver, and my legs, exposed to the cold rainwater, made my body give a cold shock response, which started to make me have goosebumps, and the heavier the rain gets, the colder its water is. The day was supposed to be quite a good day. But then there was him who is the actual determiner of it. In class today, he barely looked at me; his eyes kept scanning the whole room like i wasn't even there. "Lily, why does that even bother you?" I asked myself. His job is primarily to lecture us on philosop
(Lily's POV) The rain had finally stopped, but inside my tiny flat, a tempest of emotions had taken its place. Still wet, my clothes clung to me like a second skin, serving as a memory of the rainstorm that had brought Victor to my doorstep. His jacket, still with me, now hung over a chair, was a tangible piece of him in my space, its scent a cocktail of sandalwood and something uniquely Victor, stirring a forbidden warmth in me. I still do not know how he outrightly knew my house address, but that's even less of my worries right now. I made my way to the bathroom, showered, letting the hot water attempt to wash away the chill which I know wasn't just from the rain but from the intensity of Victor's gaze, the brief touch of his hand. Standing beneath the hot stream of water, every minute we spent together flashed through my mind. I recall his sparkling eyes, his gentle, caring hand on mine, and his breathtaking grin. I sat on the edge of my bed, wrapped in a robe, the quiet outside
(Lily's POV)Sophie and I made our exit from my place with the door having that kind of finality that denotes something unfinished business. The cool air of the night contrasted sharply with the warmth Victor's presence had left upon my skin. We walked to the library under a silence falling upon campus, bedecked with street lights. Sophie was silent, but I could feel her curiosity - like a soft hum in the background. We squatted into our study spot, surrounded by the books, but the mind was in my apartment, with Victor. I could hardly fix my attention on my notes, for they all began to blur together. Victor's jacket weighed too heavily in my bag - a secret I was not prepared to share. Sophie was busy on her laptop, but I could see eye glances darting towards me occasionally - a subtle look of concern- curiosity.I knew that the silence was pregnant. I tried to ease the weight of it with idle talk about our projects, but she still resisted. "You
(Lily's POV)The day passed by like a swiftly flowing river. Classes, lectures were nothing but echoes in my head: they were clearly not the keepers of my mind locked on the recollection of Victor, the jacket in my bag like a secret waiting to be told. I had steered clear of the early morning and had rather planned to come during late afternoons when his office hours would be less crowded so that we might snatch a moment that was truly ours.Taking a rushed lunch with an unquenched appetite, it tasted like ashes in my mouth because my thoughts were pre-occupied with what was going to happen. The hustle in the campus was quiet now as students were either leaving for the day or lost in their own worlds, oblivious to the storm inside.Every step I took resonated as a drumbeat-within him echoing my commotion. Victor's door was ajar, inviting or perhaps warning. I knocked, and my heart thudded with the noise in my chest."Come in," his voice, always the most haughty, now bore a tone of war
(Lily's POV)The sun was too bright this morning, as if somehow it had conspired with the whole universe to expose everything about me-the incidences that could well be buried in the depths of my heart. Its relentless beams streamed through the curtains and thrust into the perfect surrounding of my defenselessness, penetrating into the turmoil that was brewing within. I lay in bed tied down, remembering the kiss of Victor. It was not only the stamp of his kiss that seemed to haunt me; rather, it was the way he had lingered, how his scent now clung to me with promises forbidden, that I could not strip away. Every inhalation was another reminder of his phantom presence on my soul, creating sensations that hurt as much as they soothed.Every ounce of strength needed to push me out of bed. Each step felt heavier, infused by my thoughts. Dressing, for me, became a needless ritual of defiance: as if by getting donned in an outfit just right, it would keep me safe from my desires. I chose c
(Lily's POV)I buckled into the passenger seat of José's car, my bag tucked in beside me as he ignited the car engine. The smell of his cologne, something light and citrus-scented, wafted through the car, adding to the soft hum of air freshener. His knuckles drummed against the steering wheel, a loose smile still in place as he backed out of the parking lot.“You’re awfully quiet,” he said, side-eyeing me as he maneuvered through the light traffic.I scoffed, turning toward him with a smirk. “And you’re awfully nosy.”José gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Me? Nosy? I've never been told that.”I rolled my eyes, laughing, as I leaned my head back against the pillow. The day had been long, but here, the gentle hum of the car beneath us, the city racing by in bursts of light and movement—it felt oddly peaceful."So, what's up?" he asked after a moment."What do you mean?""You just look. different. Happier? Preoccupied? Something." He shot me a look that's like he's reading me,
I walked and sat on the seat next to Sophie, allowing my bag to clatter onto the desk with a bang. She glanced at me, still radiating her just-had-an-outburst aura."Sophie," I said, wincing at her. "Why'd you shout that out like that?"She didn't even flinch—not even a bit, smiling nastily. "Tell me you two are not good-looking people and perfectly perfect to be a couple?I scoffed, shaking my head. “Ooh, that’s what we’re doing now, ain’t it? What even with the perfectly perfect”“All I’m just saying is—”“Don’t say it.”“—you and José look great together.”I groaned, tilting my head back. “I hate you.”“You love me.”I didn’t argue, just side-eyed her as she smirked like she just had a victory.While we waited for the lecturer, we had conversations as usual, our voices dipping to a whisper whenever the hall became quiet, then rising once more the instant other individuals started talking. I kept myself occupied flipping through my notes, pretending to read, while Sophie annoyingly
(Lily's POV)"You know nothing's gonna happen right?, I've got two lectures today, and I'm stretched out as fuck. Last night."Victor chuckled, the heat of his breath on my neck as he pushed his face in closer. His arm around my waist gripped tight, pulling me back against his chest, his weight pinning me in place."You said that just now.. huh?," he breathed, his lips tracing along my shoulder. "But your body, betraying you already."I hissed a quick breath, not allowing him to get to me as his fingers traced slowly along my hip, just a touch, barely enough to tease. "I mean it," I snarled, edging away slightly. "I can't be walking around campus with my legs shaking, and you know damn well that's what's gonna happen if we go again."His laughter was low, knowing. "Not my fault you have such a pretty way of falling apart for me."I groaned, reaching for the pillow and shoving it over my face. "You're so annoying."He just laughed, ripping the pillow away and placing a kiss on my templ
(Lily's POV)The first thing I was conscious of was the heat when I woke up. The warmth of his body pressing against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. His arm was a weight, spread across my waist, holding me down, his breath slow and deep against my neck. His smell—woody, male, with the musk of last night—surrounded me, soaking into my skin.I was aware of a dull ache spreading through me, a reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me, possessed me, made his way through me in a way that still did not feel possible. My thighs clenched together around the dull soreness between them, at the raw, tender proof of every kiss, every touch, every sound he had drawn from me. I shivered, just a little, and his arm tightened, pulling me closer.There was a low rumble in his chest, a sleepy noise that sent a shiver of heat down my spine. His fingers moved against my belly, skin against skin, sleepy and possessive even while he's asleep. I didn't stir, letting my fin
Lily's POVThe air was thick with heat, the stench of sex lingering between us. My skin still tingled from his hands, from the way he had devoured me so completely on that couch. But as I leaned back against his chest, my body against his, my need for him didn't fade—it grew.Victor was beside me, his arm across my waist, his fingers tracing up and down my back in a slow, lazy rhythm. His breathing was deep and controlled, but I could feel it—the tension coiling inside him, even with the way his body had released after everything we'd done.I leaned my head back slightly, looking at him in the shadows. His face was lifted up to the ceiling, his jaw clean-cut, his lips parted ever so slightly. God, he was beautiful. And he was mine—at least for tonight.I grinned slowly as I stepped forward, allowing my hands to glide over his chest, tracing the bulging muscles beneath my fingertips. His skin felt so hot, his body so strong, and I wanted him to shatter apart once more."Lily…" His tone
He propelled his upper body forward, pulling mine closer at the same time, so our lips brushed against eachother, his breath warm, teasing, as another wave of anticipation washed over my already trembling body.He changed his grip, more this time—his arms strong, uncompromising—his body pushed hard against mine, the heat of his naked flesh inflaming me.And then—oh, my God fuckk—he was inside me. Slowly, slowlyA searing gasp tore from my lips as the broad head of his cock stretched me open, inch by agonizing inch. My nails dug into his shoulders, my head falling back as he pressed in deeper, filling me so completely it was almost too much.Victor groaned, his forehead falling to mine, his breaths deep, ragged."Fuck, Lily…" His voice was rough, strained, like he was trying very hard to hold himself together, and force the words out.My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in, insisting he go deeper."Ohh my god... deeper," I moaned, my mouth brushing against his. "I want all
His tongue caressed against the soaked fabric of my panties, slow, seductive, a searing flash of pleasure shot straight into the core of my existence.I gasped, my legs trembling as I tried to stay still, but it was useless. The movement of his mouth—slow, deliberate, savoring—had me wriggling beneath him."Victor—" My voice was rough, needy, barely a whisper.He groaned softly, his fingers biting into my thighs."See how you are," he whispered, his lips tracing the wet lace. "Already soo wet for me."A whimper escaped me.He pressed his lips to me again, this time harder, his tongue pushing against the thin fabric, rubbing slowly, brutally in circles around where I hurt worst.My hips lifted of their own accord, wanting more friction, more pressure—more of him.He pulled back an inch, his dark eyes fixed on mine."You want more?" His voice was low, gravelly, thick with need.I nodded frantically, my chest heaving and falling with shallow, desperate breaths.Victor smiled.Then, in sl
(Lily's POV)His mouth kissed mine, slow and gentle, the warmth of his breath spreading over my skin. The kiss was passionate, perfect, not rushed—like he was savoring each instant, every angle of my lips against his. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him tight, closer, craving more.And then his tongue brushed against mine, teasing, tempting me to open. I did. And the moment I did, the kiss grew hotter, deeper. His hand cradled my jaw, tilting my face just the way he needed as his tongue slid in, claiming, searching.A shiver went down my spine. My fingers tingled on his chest, wanting to touch more of him. I inched slowly, following my hand down his body, feeling the rigid muscles beneath his shirt. My palm rested against his abs, warmth seeping through the fabric, and I couldn't resist.I tugged on his shirt, yanking it up, needing the touch of his skin against mine. He hummed low on my lips, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I ran my hands over his
(Lily's POV)Victor's thumb tracing my pulse, a slow, deliberate stroke that sent a shiver coursing down my spine, the "I do" a warm ember in the dense hush of his apartment. The door shut behind us, sealing the world out, and the air hummed, heavy with his presence—his eyes, dark and molten, mapping over me, the red crop top hugging my curves, the jeans low on my hips. His fingers lay on the back of my neck, a gentle hold tilting my head back, and I gazed up at him, choking in the heat there—hunger, yes, but something else, a tenderness that wrapped around my heart and held on.“You wore red,” he said again like he didn't just say it earlier, voice low, a velvet thread weaving through me. His hand slid up, cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip, parting it just enough to make me tremble.My breath snagged, a little catch, and he smiled—slow, annihilating, the kind that illuminated me. "I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his warm breath on my cheek, his admiss