"What name would I use?" He smooths my hair down my head. "Always, Sir. You are the only one who calls me that, sweet girl." I move into his warm hand, liking how he brushes the side of my hair with his palm, his fingers lightly skating through the strands. "Even when you're... inside me?" He groans, a dark tic forming in the corner of his mouth. "Especially, then." My cheeks warm. "Yes, Sir." "Good girl."
