My Werewolf King Professor and I
His lips brushed my ear, intimate enough to sound like a lover whispering sweet words.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, in a voice only I could hear. “The elf just sent me a forum post from three months ago. The title seems to be… ‘How do I make a werewolf professor who always picks on me grovel and call me Daddy. And you were the one who posted that, wasn’t it?”
At that moment, my soul left my body.
That d*mned elf! As if digging up the rabbit wasn’t enough, he even had to unearth my three-month-old grave? I hate smart people!