“Oh, little mouse,” he whispers, his voice rough. “What a good girl you are, giving me more than I deserve. Come here.” He leans over and scoops me up, not caring at all that my face is a mess. In fact, once he has me sitting on his lap on the bed, he cups my cheeks and wipes my lower lip with his thumb with a surprisingly fond look on his face. Almost as if he likes how messy I am.
