His thigh pressed harder against my center, and I gasped. Tears burned my eyes, anger a bitter lump in my throat. Yet I slowly began to shift my hips, lightly grinding against his leg. “Good girl,” he cooed. One of his hands was pressed against the wall. The other slowly skimmed across my chest. When it circled an erect nipple, I bucked against him. “Uh-huh. That’s it, angel,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Show me how much you hate me.”
