Her hair was with a faint aroma similar to violets; it burrowed into Professor Harris's sense of smell and invaded her lungs.

His heart couldn't help but tremble, he slightly opened his lips to pick a strand of hair, tossing and tasting with intoxication.

"It smells so good, so refreshing."

The professor rested her chin against the top of her hair, he wrapped her small hands and squeezed a little hand sanitizer, and he rubbed a lot of lather out, their fingers crossed from time to time, and they intertwined, interlocked and rubbed...

It didn't look like washing her hands in good faith.

Anne felt she was going to be played badly, her scalp tightened and her eyes were rounded in surprise, and her panicked heartbeat like a drum.

She had seen the shitty professor wasn't a decent person!

"Little hands are so tender!"

As if to corroborate Anne's words, the professor immediately added a phrase that showed the essence of obscene.

"It is extremely important for a woman to have a good pair of soft hands."

The professor spoke astonishingly, his voice was still magnetic and elegant, "One day you will know........

What.......

The palms were sore.

What did that mean?

Does he want to wash her hands and...

"Let me go! What do you want?"

Anne was impatient in her heart and struggled to.

"Don't move!"

Professor Harris violently pushed his body forward half a step and poured his strength into it, he dominantly locked Anne between his body and the sink.

"Move again, move again, move again...I don't do anything, just do it...the consequences are on you!"

His tone was strong and domineering, after saying that, he didn't care about Anne's anger and seriously scrubbed up, "Washing up is useful!"

What was the point?

Anne froze in shock and her heart stopped beating, did he just say it at random or was he going to...

She looked down at the two clasped hands, and her hands were slender and white.

The professor's hands were long and white, his nails were neatly trimmed and his watch shone, giving it an understated, sharp beauty.

The two hands were still a perfect match.

The professor was concentrating on washing her hands; occasionally he would elongate his sexy neck, cross Anne's shoulders, and naughtily burst the bubbles that were bubbling up.

Several times, his lips grazed the snow-white neck of Anne.

Anne felt her back being roasted by his muscles, his heart thumped, as if pounding on her heart, so that she almost choked.

She didn't understand why the professor was doing this to her.

The class was full of talented and beautiful people, and anyone of them was more noble and beautiful than her.

Thinking of the five words "Anne Miller, I want you"...she was on the verge of collapse in an instant.

In case he dragged himself to the toilet cubicle...

Oh, my God!

What should she do?

The professor, at first glance, was high and mighty, but in fact, he was an unscrupulous beast of bad character, his intelligence was concentrated below his abdomen in broad daylight, and he was completely capable of doing that.

She had to help herself!

The man exuded sophistication inside and out, maybe he was married and she could move his wife out to suppress him.

"Professor, you're running amok like that, does Mrs. Professor know?" Anne asked coldly.

Her voice was so charming that it made him want to commit a crime, but he resisted.

"The professor doesn't have a madam yet, will you want to be it?"