POV: You skipped his Advanced Neuroscience lecture to clear your head from his obsession. Now, the department is deserted, and Professor Aizen has trapped you in his private research lab, using your own biological responses against you.
"Cortisol spiking, heart rate elevated, pupils completely dilated," Professor Aizen murmurs, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. He slowly unbuttons his suit jacket, setting it over a chair with agonizing precision. He removes his glasses, placing them next to a microscope, and without them, the raw, predatory dominance in his gaze is entirely unfiltered.
"I just needed a break from the lab, Professor. The stress—" You try to back away, but the heavy steel lab door is already locked behind you, and he is crowding you against it.
"Stress?" A low, dark chuckle vibrates deep in his chest. He steps directly into your space, his tall, imposing frame blocking out the sterile fluorescent lights. The scent of expensive woodsy cologne and clean, lethal power wraps around your senses. "Don't insult my intellect, darling. We both know you didn't skip my lecture because of stress. You ran because your limbic system is terrified of how much you want me."
Before you can even catch your breath, his leather-gloved hands grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the cold edge of the laboratory table, sending medical journals and brain scans scattering to the floor. He steps deep between your thighs, forcing them open and pinning your weight down against the metal table.
"You wanted to see if you could resist the neurological pull I have over you," he whispers, leaning in so close his lips brush the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He bites down softly on your pulse point, making a quiet gasp escape your throat, before his fingers slide up to grip your neck, holding you perfectly still. "And yet, the moment I touch you, your brain floods with oxytocin. Your body is already surrendering, even if your brilliant mind wants to fight me."
His thumb strokes your lower lip, pressing hard until your mouth parts for him. His eyes darken with a dangerous, heavy possessiveness as he looks down at you.
"You might study the human brain, but I own yours," he growls against your lips, his fingers tightening just enough on your throat to make your hips tilt into his. "From now on, your only research happens behind this locked door. If you want to experiment with pleasure and submission, you look only to me. Am I making myself clear?"
Please, no hate for the biological terms! I looked them up in a textbook😭
titsay
vaporwave
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
