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She’s giving us a chance.
“Much better.” I bite one of her nipples, sucking on it at the end. Move to the other.
“The dress.”
Where she sees the ripped fabric, I see the most beautiful fucking woman alive. Leighton’s pretty pink nipples are pointed and red from my torture, her breasts swollen with need.
“Eyes on me,” I bark.
Her beautiful eyes widen, aimed at me. Something deeper than need lies behind them. Something that resembles trust.
“I. Own. You.” Each word is enunciated by a flick of my tongue on her clit. My fingers tease her entrance, swiping along her hot center without penetrating.
“I’ll show you how good it feels to be mine.” She’s ready for me. For more of my sickness. For me to expose another layer of myself that might scare her but turn me on. “You’ll wake up at night with my cock inside you, and you won’t tell me to stop. You’ll tell me to go harder. If you won’t, I’ll fuck you until you do.”
She’ll get used to me soon enough. She’ll love me.
Every cruel part of me.
Without so much as a warning, I stand up.
“Please.” Leighton clutches at my slacks, at my leather belt. “I can’t take it. Please, Marcus.”
“Quiet.” I don’t offer her an explanation. “You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?”
She shakes her head subtly.
I stalk to the desk at the back of the study. Her gaze follows me. Just her gaze. Her body remains in place.
Good girl.
Pulling the black silk box from the top drawer, I smooth my wet thumb over the fabric.
“Look straight ahead, little doll.” My instruction is cold. “Away from me.”
Her obedience is immediate. Leighton doesn’t see what I’m doing. She hears it. There’s no dulling the snap of the box when I pop it open. Of me plucking out sanitizing wipes from the desk drawer. What she doesn’t hear is me rubbing them over her custom-made presents.
“Such a good girl,” I croon when I return to her. I kneel, still every bit as commanding from my place on the floor. “This is for you.”
I hand her over the butt plug that’s made of surgical steel. I have three more of those in various sizes that I want her to work up to. Each and every one of them is personalized.
“Why don’t you hypnotize me like the other day?”
She’s curious. I like that.
“You’ll see. Suck and spit on it.” My lips tug in a wicked smirk. “But…not before you spin the plug and read what’s engraved on its end.”
“Read?” She flips the butt plug in her hand. I memorize the surprise in her eyes. The glint of fear. “Marcus’s property. Um.” Her eyelashes flutter, and I sink two fingers into her pussy just to launch another assault on her senses. “You actually had them engrave”—moan—“Marcus’s Property on the butt plug.”
In for a penny, in for a motherfucking pound. “I’d engrave it on you if you’d let me.”
“You’re a psycho.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, I close my teeth on her nipple and bite.
“Wrong answer.” The other nipple gets the same brutal treatment. “The right one would be doing as I said. Spitting on it and getting it wet for your tight asshole, Leighton.”
She squints her eyes at me. Then she does as I said, spitting like a brat on the butt plug. Spittle lands on her chest. On my hand clutching her waist.
