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“Who is in charge here? Remember, you’ve asked me to teach you. To teach is to train.”

Her brows knitted together, and there was no mistaking my tone.

“Isabella,” I called her name firmly, getting her attention as she remained quiet.

A flash of rebellion shone in her eyes. “Seriously,” she snarled.

I grabbed her face in my hands, squeezing her cheeks. “Do you want to learn how to suck me off, or do you want my hand across your ass?”

Her blue eyes flared with desire, and a shiver went through her frame. She was fully present in the moment. Her tongue flicked out and wet her lower lip.

“Now, answer the question. Who is in charge right now?”

My fucking little princess was the quintessential textbook definition of a brat. A delightfully disobedient sub who would equally enjoy questioning my dominance and making me prove I could, in fact, be trusted enough with her submission.

She shrugged my hands off her face, fire spitting from her blue eyes. Her mouth opened once, twice, three times, yet no response was forthcoming. I could see her brain whirling, wanting to test me, struggling with her need, and how much obeying may cost her.

I could see her weighing if it was worth it. Fuck, it was as beautiful to see the minute-by-minute emotions as she shifted the weight from one foot to the other, all the while pressing her thighs together.

The words hung between us. Then, her face crumpled—chest rising sharply as she drew in a breath. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. The woman could face down her horrific past, but one serious conversation and suddenly she looked like I had insulted her best friend.

On purpose.

A lock of rich, black hair slipped forward, creating a dark curtain that partially hid her face. She tossed her head to move it out of the way, clearly annoyed. At me. At the conversation. And at the fact that I wasn’t backing down.

I reached up before I could stop myself and tucked the strands behind her ear. The silky texture slipped through my fingers, and for a second, my resolve wavered. God help me, she was beautiful.

“Is that how this is going to go? You being all stubborn and huffy? Because if so, we can go with our third option.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“We could just go back to bed.”

That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Once more I had to fight off laughter as her pretty face moved into a Kinsley-sized pout. For further effect, she crossed her arms and glared at me. Her lips remained firmly closed. Seemed she wasn’t ready to concede.

“Okay, princess, back to bed it is. Don’t worry, I’ll still hold you through the night. Help keep the demons at bay. You will admit, I’m at least good for that, right?”

I reached for her to guide her to the bed. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she cleared her throat.

“Fine. You’re the one in charge. You’ll be the Dom. I’ll be your pretend submissive.”

Ah, good ole Isabella. When she didn’t get her way, she would deflect. Next, would be to poke at me to see if I’d let her steer us away from the conversation again.

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t play pretend, so neither will you. We either have an understanding that we need to have a conversation or we don’t.”

I stretched, rolling my shoulders. A smidge of uncertainty slipped in, disrupting her composure. I cocked my head to the side and stood my ground. Another minute passed. There was the horrible sinking feeling that I’d have to go into the bathroom to stroke my cock to get the damn thing under control.

I’d do it, but damn if I’d rather be balls-deep inside the raven-haired brat standing defiantly before me. Lucky me, one step toward the bed was all it took.

A frustrated sound escaped her as she dropped her arms and demanded, “You’re going to make me do this now?”

I waited before turning back toward her. And even when I did, I gave her room. An opportunity to walk herself back from her current attitude.

“I won’t make you do a damn thing,” I said.

Shit, Nik would be proud of me. Hell, I was proud of myself.

“Lev,” she moaned, reaching for me.