Taming My Professor

Chapter 6

Nora's POV

My body stiffened against the chair, too afraid to move. I pursed my lips, praying the ground would just open and swallow me.

“Good morning, class,” his deep voice rang as he took steps forward.

My heart raced as I scratched the edge of my skirt with my index finger. Why are you so tense, Nora? Calm down. Who knows. Maybe he doesn't even remember me.

Yes! I mean, he was asleep when I left, and the room was dark last night. He couldn't have possibly seen my face, right?

No need to panic. Just be calm and act natural.

“If you want to be successful in business,” Gerald continued, pacing slowly, “You need to understand how people think. What motivates them. What frightens them.”

His footsteps stopped a few inches away from me. “Zoning out, are we?”

I swallowed hard, fingers trembling as I darted my eyes around.

My lips parted, words unable to form as my eyes widened. “I…”

He stepped closer, his body brushing against the edge of my desk as the familiar scent, cedarwood and vetiver, filled my nostrils.

Memories from last night began replaying in my head as my body burned with an unsettling heat. My fingers trembled against the desk as I tried calming my nerves.

He tilted his head slightly. “Tell me this, why do people follow financial advice they don’t understand simply because it comes from someone in authority?”

I knew this. I knew this.

“I think…” My throat went dry. “I…” My voice cracked, and a few heads turned. Heat rushed to my face as I swallowed hard. “Because… because people trust experts?” I tried again, softer. “They assume authority means… safety.”

A ripple of laughter spread across the room swiftly.

“That’s it?”

“She sounds confused.”

“Freshman vibes.”

My fingers curled into my skirt as my ears burned. At that moment, I wished I could disappear.

Gerald didn’t smile. He straightened slowly, his eyes pressing down on me. “That,” he said calmly, “is a half-thought wrapped in fear.”

More laughter, sharper this time. He lifted a hand, silencing the class.

“Authority bias,” he continued, voice smooth, “isn’t about trust. It’s about surrender. People outsource responsibility to avoid blame.” His eyes flicked back to me. “They obey because obedience feels lighter than thinking.”

My feet buckled.

“So no,” he finished coolly. “It’s not safety they’re buying. It’s relief.”

A few students nodded. Someone murmured,

“Damn.”

A girl two rows ahead twisted in her seat. Strawberry-blonde hair. Dark, amused eyes.

“Professor,” she said brightly, “You should focus on me instead. I’m way smarter.”

She leaned forward, fingers deliberately brushing against her cleavage.

A few boys snickered.

Gerald didn’t even look at her.

“No,” he said flatly. Silence followed.

He straightened his posture as he turned to address the class. “Assignment one. Two pages. Conditioning and authority bias in decision-making. Due next week.”

Chairs scraped. Bags rustled. The class dissolved around me, voices blurring into noise.

I stayed frozen, my mind stuck on his voice, his eyes, the way my skin still burned where he hadn’t touched me.

What's happening to me? Was this normal? Is it because he was my first? I took little notes where I could, my mind an empty space.

The way he locked eyes with me, could he know me? Did he remember? How am I going to face him? It's one thing to be drunk. It's another to f**k your professor. Who knows, maybe it's just all in my head. Yes. I'm probably overthinking things.

The loud ringing of the bell disrupted my thoughts. Relief washed over me as I threw my books into my bag.

I held my head low, hanging my bag on my shoulder as I walked towards the exit. I made it three steps into the hallway before a hand closed around my wrist.

“Running again?” A deep, familiar voice vibrated.

My pulse raced at my finger tips as I swallowed hard. I turned slowly, a nervous smile curling my lips. “Professor…”

“Nora Thompson,” he called, voice sharp as his lips curled into a grin.

My heart slammed against my ribs as panic surged through my bloodstream. He hadn’t said my name in class. He hadn’t asked for it.

“How…” My voice wobbled. “How do you…”

He leaned closer, blocking the hallway with his body as he slammed the door shut. “You left something unfinished,” he said quietly. “And I don’t forget unfinished things.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said quickly, glancing down at the locked door. “I think you’ve confused me with someone else.”

His lips twitched. “Have I?”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out something small. My eyes widened as I saw the familiar white and blue plastic design.

My student ID.

He lifted it between us, tilting it side to side like a pendulum. “Do I still have the wrong person?”

I swallowed hard, stretching towards it. “That’s mine.”

His hand snapped shut around my wrist, pressing me back against the wall. The ID disappeared as his other hand came up, leaving me trapped between his arms.

“Why did you run?” He asked, arching a brow.

I stiffened. “I don't understand your question.”

“You disappeared,” he continued, inching closer. “After starting something you didn’t finish.”

A cold chill ran down my spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Lying already?”

He reached into his jacket and pulled my ID card, waving it in front of me.

My breath hitched. “You could’ve picked that up anywhere,” I snapped. “From the hallway. From the floor. You don’t get to accuse me of things that never happened.”

His gaze sharpened. “Let me help you remember.”

He closed the distance between us swiftly, his lips pressing against mine. My eyes widened in shock as his hand wrapped around my waist. I wriggled, trying to break free as I hit my palms against his chest.

His free hand grabbed my wrists, slamming them over my head, against the wall. His tongue licked the edge of my lips, his eyes dark as his husky voice cooed. “Your memory might be bad. But your body surely remembers.”

He took my lips again, his hand pinning my arms firmly. I felt my knees go weak slowly, my heart pounding as my lips inadvertently moved in sequence to his.

He pressed me against the wall, his tall frame hovering over me as I felt him stiffen beneath me. His tongue pried its way into my mouth, entangling with mine as my body began melting into his touch.

I felt my feet buckle as his hand began exploring my body. I let out a soft whimper as his index finger grazed my thigh. A burning sensation engulfed me as my cunt let out hot liquid.

Why was I reacting this way? This is wrong. But why do I want more?

His lips slipped from mine as he trailed kisses down my neck. His tongue stroked the edge gently, his hand gliding up my thigh. My heart raced with hunger as my once tight legs grew weak, leaving an open pathway for his hand.

“Nora?” Amber's voice rang from the hallway as footsteps approached.

The once burning passion was instantly replaced with panic. “P… please… l… let me go.”

“Not until you tell the truth,” he whispered against my ear.

His hand slid to the surface of my underwear. I bit down on my lip, doing my best to stifle the moan that threatened to come out.

“Nora?” Amber's voice called again as the footsteps inched closer.

Sweet dripped down my forehead as his finger slid past the thin lining of my underwear, teasing the surface of my wet cunt. God I didn't want him to stop. But I couldn't be caught like this. Not by Amber.

“Please…” I moaned, shifting my gaze towards the door.

He ignored me, rubbing against the surface of my p***y as he nibbled on my neck. My heart dropped as the door knob twisted open…