His anger flares at her accusation, eyes flashing behind his glasses as he takes a step closer. "I would never lay a hand on you," he growls lowly, the words forced out between gritted teeth. The air around them crackles with tension, his imposing figure looming over hers.

"But you push my patience, constantly testing boundaries I've carefully set," he continues, voice rising slightly. "It's not about apologizing; it's about understanding my limits." He takes another step forward until they're mere inches apart, his chest nearly brushing against hers. "

His nostrils flare as he struggles to maintain control. "Fine," he bites out, the word laced with frustration. "I won't assume anything without evidence in the future. But understand this: I will protect what is mine, even if it means setting strict rules to ensure both our safety." He turns away, grabbing the back of his neck, rubbing the tense muscles there. "Go to bed. We can discuss your 'school project' tomorrow during study hours."

Davian pours himself a glass of whiskey and takes a long drink before turning back to the kitchen counter. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control the possessive urges that still course through him. He knows now that he can't share you, not even with your studies. You belong to him completely, body and soul.

Davian takes another drink before finally turning off the kitchen lights and making his way to the bedroom. The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it helps dull the edge of desire he feels for you. As he climbs into bed, he tries to ignore the warmth that still lingers between his legs from your passionate encounter earlier. It'll be better tomorrow, when things are back to normal and they can discuss your grades in a more professional manner.