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“This is a temporary collar that symbolizes your submission,” he says. “Wearing signifies the transfer of power from you to me.”
“Have you ever given out a permanent one?” I ask.
“No.” The word is so final, I don’t dare to ask why. “Do I have your consent to put it on?”
The pulse between my legs quickens, and a pleasant shiver runs down my spine. This is just like the romance books.
Better, because it’s real.
“Please,” I reply.
The leather collar feels soft around my neck and almost like a hug. Warms surges in my chest as my ears fill with the clink of the metal buckle.
For the next few heartbeats, he places his hands on my shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. I don’t know if he’s savoring this moment, but I am.
My heart skips, and my breath quickens. No one has ever made me feel so wanted.
Professor Segul walks around me and settles into the leather throne and places his hands on the armrests. The combination of the tattoos across his chest and black leather trousers make him look majestic. All he needs is a crown, and I’d worship him as my demon king.
“What made you think it was a wise idea to resort to blackmail?”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“That behavior cannot go unpunished.”
I gulp. “What happened to you blackmailing me into silence? Don’t two wrongs make a right?”
He raises a brow. “Are you listening to yourself?”
My heart sinks. He’s absolutely right.
“Listen,” I murmur. “It was just an empty threat. I would never have—”
“Then I will teach you never to make a threat you cannot back up with conviction and never to threaten someone in a position of greater strength.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I murmur.
He chuckles, the sound dark and rich. “I will decide when I’m satisfied with your apology.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Come here.” He beckons me forward.
By now, I already know he wants me to crawl, so I move forward on my hands and knees.
“Kiss my feet,” he says.
My gaze drops from his face, down his muscled torso, and to the erection straining through his leather pants. I part my lips, wishing he would ask me to kiss him there. With a reluctant sigh, I look down his thighs and calves to his bare toes.
As men’s feet go, his are mostly attractive. The skin there is a little paler than his bronze chest, and hairless with trimmed nails.
I press a soft kiss on his foot. “There.” I give the other one a kiss for good measure. “Sorry for resorting to blackmail. It will never happen again.”
As I raise my head to gaze into his eyes, he threads his fingers through my hair and pushes me back down.
“Who said you were finished?” he growls. “I want you to kiss every toe until further instruction.”
I bend down again, press my lips on his little toe, then work my way across each digit of his feet until I reach the final one.
