He smooths his other hand over my heated bottom. He leans down and kisses my cheek, brushing my hair from my face, and says gruffly, “Who do you belong to?” “You.” “Who’s your master?” “You.” His voice softens. “And who thinks you’re the most precious angel in the world?” I swallow, suddenly fighting tears. His voice is so warm and full of feeling, and all at once, I’m overwhelmed. With a hitch in my voice, I whisper, “Y-you.” His lips brush my ear. “Aye, baby. And all I am is yours now, so take care of this monster you’ve enslaved.”
