HER PROFESSOR'S GOOD GIRL
He held something small, lacey and black in his hand, something that made my pulse skip.
I frowned. “What is that?”
“Vibrating pants,” he said simply. “A little reminder of who you belong to, even when you’re out with… friends.”
I stared at him, speechless. “You can’t be serious.”
He smiled faintly. “Oh, I’m very serious, kitten.”
My eyes widened, perplexed, a thrill of fear and arousal mixing, but he stepped closer under the guise of brushing dust from my shoulder, whispering low.