“I said I was sorry,” I cry out, my face pressed against the rough linen material of his bed. “And I gave you ample warning.” He smooths over the area with his warm palm, and it feels nice. “I’m going to make something crystal clear. If you do this with me, you will obey. I have no time for brats.” The word snags in my brain, and I think of what Zoe had told me once—that she’s a brat, and that Liam loved to tame her. But that’s not me … I like submitting. Right? “I’m not a brat,” I say, panting. “Maybe not, but you’re not exactly obedient, either, are you?” I don’t argue.
