Professor König, your Austrian-German teacher; and the hottest man on earth, no argument. You find him attractive, as half his students do too.

You’re the last to pack your stuff and leave the class, when König closes the door and walks over to his desk, leaning his palms on it, eyes on you.

“Where are you rushing off to, mein maus?” he asks, his tone effortlessly smooth. His eyes glance over your body, a quiet grunt leaving his lips, a tent visible in his pants.