Khalifa: Queen in the Apocalypse-Chapter 262: Professor and His Student (R-18)

It was after school hours in St. Heather’s Private Academy—one of the most exclusive schools in the area—and the students had left with their chaperones or in their own cars, heading out to whatever rich kids did after school.

Hence, the expensive halls and classrooms of the school were mostly empty of students. Well, except for one.

At this time, a beautiful student with unique silver hair was standing outside the door with a tense expression on her face.

She was a sight to behold with her delicate facial features and shapely curves.

The posh uniform fit her well, teasing of the form underneath. It had a relatively short plaited skirt, well above the thigh, and she was wearing the standard heels that went with the uniform.

The girl, Khalifa, heaved a deep breath as she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Knock, knock

"Enter," a masculine voice sounded from the inside, calling her in.

"Professor?" she asked, looking at the man sitting on the teacher’s chair with his papers, looking quite busy.

A man who was passionately working appeared very handsome, it was especially true with the professor.

"Did you call for me?"

"Hmm," the professor uttered as he finished up whatever he was doing. "Come in."

Khalifa blinked and simply entered and closed the door, tentatively walking towards him. She stood some meter away by the front-most desk, patiently waiting for instructions.

"Do you know why I called you here?"

Khalifa pursed her lips, looking a bit pitiful, before nodding. "Yes, professor." she said, a little meek, unaware that her image was so beautiful and made men want to do things to her.

"But… I really tried my best, professor ."

"I know," he sighed, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Your grades are still above average, but it’s been declining consistently the past few weeks. You’re a scholarship student, and you have to work at a higher standard than others."

She nodded but didn’t say much except she would work on it.

Unexpectedly, the professor stood up and loomed over her. She blinked, unsure if he wanted to say anything else.

His arms gripped on the table surface beside her, trapping her within his arms. This made her very confused. "Professor?" she asked, but her voice died as she realized their proximity.

It felt so warm, her face started to flush in embarrassment.

"Tell me honestly: Are you being bullied?"

This made her freeze, forgetting their compromising position. Her reaction was enough to tell the man what happened and he frowned, looking a bit angry.

"Did they hurt you?!"

Khalifa was taken aback by his tone and hurriedly shook her head. "I didn’t get hurt," she said, honestly. She was bullied in other ways like pranks and isolation, though.

Cauis looked at her with heartbreak. Like her, he was also a scholarship student back then, but in his case the bullying had some physical beating involved.

It was why he worked very hard at his job and helped who he could. When he found out another special enrollment student was going under him, he took special note of her.

However, when he saw her in person, he knew she’d be different.

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He was attracted to her the moment she entered the school—and he had been watching her every move since then.

Any man would be fascinated, and he got more and more obsessed as he watched.

And the times he manipulated trouble for the lads who wanted to make a move on her was very impressive.

He might’ve been a scholarship student, but he forged many connections the past year. His ways were quite low-key but effective that even the boys’ powerful families couldn’t do anything but transfer them out.

In time, this kept any suitors away from Khalifa, which was just as he wanted.

None of these thoughts was obvious on his face, however. He simply looked at her with an appearance of concern. If one didn’t look at their position, one might think he was really just a concerned teacher.

"When you ever need help—or if you only feel lonely, just come to the professor, okay, Khalifa?"

Khalifa—who couldn’t look at him in shame—couldn’t help but lift her head at this.

Her eyes were a little wide, meeting the professor’s. She was reminded once again of their closeless, and her heart beat wildly at their proximity.

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and nodded shyly, heaving a breath of relief when he moved. She thought it was finally over.

However, his masculine hands found her chin and lifted it up. "I forgot to greet Khalifa for her birthday," he said, "Congratulations for becoming an adult."

Her heart shook. No one remembered her birthday at all. She was so touched that she forgot her teacher was holding up her chin in a very inappropriate manner.

"Thank you, professor."

"Does Khalifa want any gift?"

She hurriedly shook her head with a blushing face. "No! Professor, your greeting is good enough—"

Her words were stopped when his lips touched hers. Her eyes were wide as he increased the pressure, changing angles. And her brain stopped working when he licked her lips.

She gasped, and was unable to close it again when a foreign tongue slithered in, wrapping around hers, and tasting the insides of her mouth.

Her hands found his wide shoulders to stabilize herself, still unsure of what was happening.

Her body heated up in ways she couldn’t imagine and soon she felt herself succumbing to him.

"Breathe," he would tell her in between, lips still connected, and would enter again as soon as she did so.

Khalifa could hear her own heart, syncing with the sound of exchanging saliva. She felt dizzy and hot, but she didn’t dislike it at all.

No, she vaguely wanted more.

When Cauis felt her stop struggling, the weight in his heart lifted, and he guided her arms to wrap around his neck, lapping the insides of her mouth a bit more, slowly turning her brain into mush.

It took a long time before Cauis lifted his head, parting from her. The man looked down to look at her face and her reaction.

Her face was flushed and her eyes dazed and it could make any man crazy.

Cauis wanted to see—how much he could push.

Rather: He needed it.