“Look at this needy cunt,” he says, his fingers ghosting over my slit and making me whimper pathetically. It’s nowhere near enough, especially with how worked up I am, but he’s in charge here, so I wait patiently for whatever comes next. “Tell me who it belongs to, Liv. Tell me and I’ll make it come so fucking pretty.” I attempt to string together the words, my mouth opening and closing several times, but my brain is completely empty—vacant of any thoughts other than how desperate I am for him to stop torturing me. Licking my lips, I swallow, but before I can try again, his open palm cracks
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