“When you said you wanted to serve me, a foot massage isn’t quite what I had in mind,” I joked, my voice turning hoarse. His face angled toward my leg, his lips nearly brushing my ankle. “Tell me then, my Queen, how would you like me to serve you?” Both palms dragged down my legs, resting low on my thighs and nudging them apart with the faintest pressure. “Shall I get back down on my knees until I earn another kiss?”
