breasts. “Good girl,” he says. “We’ll enjoy our time better when you’re obedient.” My lips curl into a smirk. “And if I’m not?” “You really don’t want to know what I do to bratty girls.” A thrill of excitement zips down my insides and nestles straight between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together and swallow back a groan. “Maybe I like being bad. Maybe I like to be scared.” “I’ll bear that in mind when I have you kneeling before me on Saturday,” he says, his voice laced with dark amusement.
