“For a girl who doesn’t like being spanked, you don’t listen very well.” He kept squeezing until she was panting, her eyes wild. Letting go made her body sag, and she whimpering and rubbed at her abused breast. “Play with your clit, Juliet, or I’ll spank your pussy just as hard as I just spanked your ass.”
“I could just safeword, you know.”
“I could just send you home,” he growled. “Quit being a brat or get out.”
“So it’s your way or the highway?”
“That’s what you signed up for. Why are you complaining?”
“I—can’t you just ask me nicely?”
“No.”
“Ugh!” She threw her hands up. “You’re impossible.”
“One.”
“One what?”
“Two.”
“Oh God—you wouldn’t!”
“Thr . . .”
Glaring at him, she put her dainty right hand between her legs. She slid a finger down the top of her slit and gasped. Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip, apparently hornier than she’d realized. The finger slid back and forth, and within moments he could tell she was more interested in getting herself off than in putting on a show for him. Eyelids at half-mast, bottom lip between her teeth, gaze focused on him—it was easy to imagine her lying in bed thinking about what they’d done together, and fantasizing about more. She shivered and shifted her stance, but her panties kept her legs locked together.
“Have you jilled off to the thought of me since that night?”
“Jilled off?” she asked breathily.
“Masturbated.”
“No!”
“Liar.”
She had the good grace to look away, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Eyes on me, Juliet.”
She grimaced, although it was more need than annoyance twisting her expression.
“Tell me.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze was lusty and coy.
“A lot?”
She pouted. Nodded.
“Say it.”
She grimaced. “I thought about you and . . . touched myself.”
Touched herself? So fucking precious.
“And what did you imagine me doing to you?”