I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Lysander’s pov

The sky was still gloomy even though morning classes had already started.

Gray clouds stretched endlessly above the campus, swallowing most of the sunlight and leaving the buildings washed in cold silver tones.

I tightened my grip around the bottle of milk in my hands as I walked toward Building One.

My stomach wouldn’t stop twisting.

Part of me knew coming here was stupid.

The other part, the pathetic, hopelessly obsessed part, couldn’t stay away from Professor Drake no matter how hard I tried.

I’d only run into him in the department corridor once before, but somehow that single interaction with my youngest, most intimidating professor had stayed in my head for days afterward. The memory of his smile alone had been enough to make me lose sleep.

So despite how exhausted and sore I still felt, I found myself climbing the stairs toward the faculty offices anyway.

Maybe if I was lucky, he would actually be in during his scheduled office hours.

The thought stopped abruptly the second I reached his door and saw it was slightly ajar.

Professor Drake was there.

For a moment, I just stood frozen near the entrance.

The gloomy weather outside made his private office dim, but soft light still filtered through the tall window behind him, catching against the dark strands of his hair and the sharp line of his jaw.

He sat behind the heavy oak desk, one broad arm resting lazily across a stack of grading papers while the other flipped through lecture notes. Even sitting down, he looked intimidatingly broad, his dark dress shirt straining against the muscles of his chest.

My heartbeat instantly became uneven.

Luck was finally on my side.

Before I could lose my courage, I forced myself to walk toward him after a brief knock on his door.

I stopped beside his desk and carefully placed the milk down in front of him.

Excuse me, Professor..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I had a... a quick question about the reading. And..."

I carefully placed the bottle of milk down on the edge of his desk.

"This is for you," I added quickly, pushing the bottle slightly closer. "It’s really good. I thought you might like it during your lectures today."

Drake looked up slowly.

Those dark eyes landed on me and my throat tightened immediately.

I tried not to panic.

Drake glanced down at the milk for several beats, saying nothing. I was finally giving up hope when his gaze returned to me.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Something inside me sank immediately.

I didn’t expect him to be ecstatic about it but he was so cold. The silence between us became painfully awkward, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Opportunities like this didn’t happen often.

So I forced myself to speak again.

Are you... teaching the health and human sexuality lecture in Hall Three later?" I asked, my fingers nervously twisting the fabric of my oversized hoodie.

He nodded once. "I am. It starts in ten minutes."

"Do you mind if... I walk down with you?" I asked, gathering the last scraps of courage I had left.

For a second, I thought he might refuse. A professor walking to a lecture hall with a student wasn’t exactly standard.

But he simply stood up, towering over me, and said, "Alright."

Excitement burst through me so suddenly I nearly smiled too hard. I had to look away quickly to hide it.

As we walked out of the study room together, I deliberately stayed half a step behind him, secretly enjoying the ridiculous sense of safety that came from following him through the hallway.

Drake was tall enough that people naturally moved aside for him without even realizing it. Watching that happen filled me with an embarrassing amount of pride.

At one point, I caught myself imagining what it would feel like if he reached back and grabbed my hand.

The thought alone made my ears burn.

Outside, the wind picked up harder.

My hair immediately blew across my face in tangled golden strands.

I struggled awkwardly to fix it while still trying to walk normally beside him.

Without warning, Drake held something out toward me.

A hair tie.

I stared at it in surprise before slowly taking it from his hand.

"Thanks," I murmured softly.

Heat crept across my face while I tied my hair back.

At the same time, though, an uncomfortable thought settled into my chest.

Why was a cold, professional man like Professor Drake carrying hair ties around? Did he have a girlfriend?

The idea bothered me more than it should have.

By the time we reached the lecture hall, the room was already buzzing with students. Drake walked straight down to the podium at the front, his presence immediately silencing the room as he set down his laptop.

I took a seat near the far-left window, my heart still refusing to settle properly

Today’s lecture topic made things a thousand times worse: Sexual Orientation & Taboo Dynamics.

The moment Drake cleared his throat and started lecturing on the psychology of attraction, my entire body tensed instinctively. I tried to take notes, but instead, I kept watching him.

His hands looked even larger under the podium lights. Veins shifted subtly beneath his tanned skin whenever he pointed to the projector. The sleeves of his dark shirt were rolled up to his forearms, stretching tightly every time he leaned forward to emphasize a point.

Everything about him felt unfairly, dangerously attractive. He was my professor. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my lap and I froze immediately.

Gideon.

My stomach twisted the second I unlocked the screen.

How about this position tonight, slut?

Confused, I looked up from the phone. Several rows ahead, Gideon sat casually in his seat, watching me.

At the front of the classroom, the Lucious had switched slides.

Another diagram filled the projector screen. Gideon silently mouthed the word again.

Slut.

Heat rushed violently into my face.

My body still remembered last night too clearly. The bruises hidden beneath my clothes suddenly felt impossible to ignore.

I looked away quickly and tried to focus on the lecture again.

Another vibration interrupted me almost immediately.

A video.

My blood ran cold.

Gideon had saved everything from the livestream.

Another message appeared beneath it.

Refuse me, and everyone in this classroom, including your precious Professor gets to watch your pretty face on the projector instead.

My fingers tightened painfully around the phone.

Humiliation crashed over me so hard I could barely breathe.

After several seconds, I gave the smallest possible nod in Gideon’s direction.

Satisfied, he leaned back in his seat.

I shoved the phone deep into my bag afterward like it had burned me.

But the damage was already done. My thoughts were starting to spiral helplessly and shamefully—

If Professor Drake saw that video... if he knew what a filthy, broken thing I was... I would die. Part of me still remembered the overwhelming pleasure from last night too vividly.

I hated that.

I hated myself for it.

Because no matter how wrong it was, being touched by someone else had felt different from anything I’d ever done alone. My thoughts drifted toward Drake beside me.

Immediately, my imagination betrayed me again with his broad shoulders and large hands. His muscles shifted subtly beneath his clothes whenever he moved. The image of him thrusting into me when I am cuming would look a whole lot better than Gideon.

Heat crawled slowly up my neck.

I found myself wondering what it would feel like if someone like him held me down instead.

No.

Stop.

Disgust flooded through me instantly afterward.

How could I think about things like that? Especially after last night. I had already been fucked by someone else and yet, I was still fantasizing about him.

What if Drake didn’t even like men?

What if he reacted the same way my former friends did after finding out about me?

The memory alone made my chest ache.

Distracted, I unscrewed the milk bottle in my hands without paying attention, the bottle tilted too far accidentally and a small amount spilled from the corner of my mouth.

Embarrassed, I instinctively stuck out my tongue to lick it away.

Embarrassed, I instinctively stuck out my tongue, slowly licking the sweet drop away.

When I looked up, my breath caught.

Professor Drake had stopped speaking mid-sentence. His dark eyes were fixed entirely on my mouth, watching my tongue slip back behind my lips. For a terrifying, exhilarating second, his composure fractured, his gaze darkening with a heavy and ravenous look.

Then, he cleared his throat, looked back at his notes, and continued the lecture.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Had he really just looked at me like that?

By the time class ended, students packed their things and started leaving. I stayed behind, waiting until the lecture hall cleared out.

Slowly, I walked down the steps to the podium where Drake was packing his laptop. I slid the black hair tie off my wrist and placed it on the desk.

"I’ll buy you a new one next time," I said casually, trying to sound teasing instead of incredibly nervous. "Can you ask your... girlfriend where she got it? It’s really good quality."

Drake paused, his hands freezing over his laptop bag. He looked up, his gaze intense.

"I don’t have a girlfriend," he said, his voice low and incredibly gravelly in the empty lecture hall.

My heartbeat stumbled instantly.

His eyes shifted down to the hair tie, then slowly rose to trace the golden strands of my hair.

"I carry it because my crush has long hair."

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Crush.

The word echoed painfully, beautifully inside my chest. But before I could process it, Drake zipped his bag and looked at me one last time.

"Thanks for the milk, Lysander," he murmured, taking the empty bottle.

I nodded awkwardly, my cheeks burning.

Just as I turned to leave, Drake added calmly,

"If possible... next time, I’d prefer a vanilla flavor."

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