THE LECTURER'S FORBIDDEN LOVE . One brillian student............... One love that breaks all the rules.

chapter 1 Joseph's POV The lecture hall was alreadyquiet when i stepped inside. Thirty pairs of eyes turned towards me as the door closed softly behind my back. The low murmur of conversations disappeared instantly, replaced by the familiar silence of students pretending to look serious. And that was a line i knew very well i should never cross. My eyes kept drifting back to Jemina I glanced briefly around the room. All the seats were occupied except one-empty desk in the front row. Without giving it much thought, I walked forward and placed my laptop and books on the table. The soft tap of the laptop echoed through the hall. "Good morning", I greeted firmly. "Good morning sir ". the class responded in uneven chorus. I placed my hand behind my back and scanned the room like I always did before starting. "Is everyone present?" A few students exchanged glances. "Not yet, sir, " one of them answered. "she will come, sir". I raised an eyebrow slightly. "And who is absent?" I don't like late comers . Every student knows my rule : once the lecture begins, the door stays closed. No excuses. I nodded slowly. "very well". Instead of beginning the lecture immediately, I turned toward the board and picked up a marker. "If she plans on coming later, she will miss something important. " I started writing quickly. Within a few minutes, five questions covered the whiteboard. When i turned back to them, a wave of uneasy whispers spread across the room. "A quiz?". Someone muttered. "Yes". I said calmly. "You have thirty minutes". Groans filled the hall, but papers were already being pulled out. Soon, the room became silent again, except for the scratching sounds of pens against paper. I sat on the empty desk in the front-the one that belonged to the missing student, and watched them. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Still no sign of the absentee. I crossed my arms and looked up. "who is the student that is not here?". Several students exchanged knowing smiles. One girl answered. "Her name is black beauty, Sir." A few others chuckled. I frowned slightly. "Black beauty?." I was about to ask what kind of nickname that was when the lecture door creaked open. Every head turned. A young lady stepped inside. She froze immediately when she realised the entire class-and lecturer- were staring at her. Her breathing looked slightly rushed, as if she had been running. For a moment, no one spoke. She stood there, tense and uncertain. Her dress was simple but striking-a white body con that hugged her slender frame with quiet elegance. Her hair was tied back in a near- pony tail, revealing the graceful curve of her neck. But what captured my attention was her skin. Deep, dark, and flawless. It shone like Polished ebony beneath the lecture hall light. suddenly the nickname made sense. Black beauty. But there was something else too. Her eyes. They carried a mixture of fear, determination, and quiet courage. She had clearly remembered my rule about latecomers. Every student who walked into my lecture after it had begun usually meant being sent out immediately. She hesitated, gripping her books tightly against her chest. Then she gathered the courage and stepped forward. "Good morning Sir ". She said softly. Her voice carried a faint tremor. The entire class went silent. Everyone expected me to order her out. Instead, I simply looked at her. For a brief moment, our eyes met. Something strange happened in that instant. A feeling I couldn't immediately explain. I cleared my throat and gestured toward the empty desk. A wave of surprise moved through the classroom. she looked equally shocked but quickly nodded. "Yes sir". l collected my laptop and books from the desk so she could take her seat. As she settled down, I said calmly, "we are fifteen minutes into the quiz ". She nodded again without complaining. within seconds, she took out her paper and began writing. Her pen moved quickly-far-quicker than the others. I watched her briefly before turning my attention back to the class. Ten minutes later, she stood up and walked towards my desk. I looked up. She placed the paper in front of me respectfully. "I'm done, Sir." Her voice was calm now. I took the paper, slightly skeptical. But as my eyes scanned the answers. my eyebrows slowly lifted. Every answer. Correct. Every singe one. I glanced up at her. Though her name was written neatly at the top of the paper, I still asked. "what's your name?" She stood straight, meeting my gaze polite. "Jemina, sir". Our gaze met. And that did something to my heart. "Jemina. The name lingered in my mind for a moment. The rest of the quiz continued. But now I was paying attention to one particular student. When the time ended, I collected the papers and began the lecture. To my surprise, Jemina answered serval questions during the class. Each time she spoke, her answers were sharp, confident, and insightful-far beyond what I expected from a students who just begun the course. I paused midway through explaining a concept. "You seem to understand this already". I said . She smiled slightly . "A little sir" The other students laughsoftly. I shook my head, amused. So her classmates were right. She was not just beautiful. She was brilliant. l could feel something within me. Something tickling. Anytime I glance at her. And, as a lecturer, a troubling thought slowly formed in the back of my mind. For the first time, in my years of teaching, I was beginning to realise something dangerous. I might be developing an interest in my own student. At home, I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceilling. All what happened during the day starts replaying in mind. Jemima's beautiful face and body came to my mind. At the thought her, my c**k starts to hardened. What exactly is happening to me?. I just got hard at the thought of my student?. Jemima you don't know what you're doing to me right now. That smooth lips of her's, my goodness. I turned to my side, pressing my face into the pillow as if that could silence the storm inside my head. It didn’t. If anything, it made it louder. Jemina. Her name alone felt like a whisper that refused to fade. I shut my eyes, but that only made it worse—because then I could see her clearly. Too clearly. The way she had stood at the door, caught between fear and determination. The slight rise and fall of her chest as she tried to steady her breath. The quiet strength in her voice when she greeted me. “Good morning, sir.” It replayed again and again. I exhaled sharply and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. “This is wrong,” I muttered under my breath. I had always prided myself on discipline. Structure. Control. My lecture hall was governed by rules, and I never broke them—not for anyone. Yet today… I had. I let her in. Not just into the class. But into my thoughts. My jaw tightened. What was it about her? Yes, she was beautiful—that was undeniable. But I had seen beautiful women before. Students, colleagues, strangers. Beauty had never unsettled me like this. This was different. There was something about the way she carried herself. Quiet, yet unshaken. Nervous, yet bold enough to step forward when she could have easily turned back. And then there was her mind. I let out a slow breath. Brilliant. That was the word. The way she answered questions, effortlessly. The confidence behind her words, even when she tried to sound modest. “A little, sir.” I almost smiled at the memory. “A little,” I repeated softly to myself. She had finished a fifteen-minute quiz in ten… and gotten everything right. My hand moved to my forehead as I rubbed my temple. “Focus, Joseph.” This wasn’t just inappropriate—it was dangerous. A line had been drawn long before she ever walked into that lecture hall. Lecturer. Student. There were no grey areas. And yet… my mind refused to cooperate. Without warning, another image formed—uninvited, vivid. Jemina, not in the lecture hall, but closer. Much closer. Standing in front of me, not with that nervous tension, but calm… relaxed. Her eyes meeting mine without hesitation. There was a softness in her expression now, something warmer… something that didn’t belong in a classroom. I swallowed. “No.” I sat up abruptly, dragging a hand through my hair. “This has to stop.” But even as I said it, the thought lingered. What would her smile look like if it wasn’t restrained? If it wasn’t hidden behind politeness and respect? I had seen a glimpse of it in class—a small one. Brief, almost shy. But it had done something unsettling to me. It had stayed. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “This is just… curiosity,” I tried to convince myself. New student. Exceptional performance. Unusual confidence. That was all. That had to be all. But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. Because curiosity didn’t make your thoughts drift like this. It didn’t make you replay moments. It didn’t make you remember the exact tone of someone’s voice… or the way their eyes held yours for just a second too long. I lay back down again, this time covering my face with my arm. “This ends tomorrow,” I said firmly into the quiet room. Back to normal. Back to discipline. Back to being the lecturer I had always been. No exceptions. No distractions. No Jemina. But even as I made that decision, one final thought slipped through, quiet and stubborn. Tomorrow… I would see her again. And for reasons I didn’t want to admit— I wasn’t entirely sure I was looking forward to resisting it.