Page 41 of Forbidden Obsession

“No what?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I-I don’t…crawling across the floor is just…”

“Demeaning?”

“Yes…Sir.”

“What if swallowing your pride and crawling to me made me happy? Would you still find it demeaning?”

“Honestly?”

“If anything comes out of your mouth that isn’t honest, this all stops, girl.”

“Then, yes. Extremely demeaning, Sir.” When I smiled, she furrowed in confusion. “You mean, you’re not mad or disappointed I don’t want to crawl to you?”

“No. Why would I be? I respectallyour limits.”

“Thank you, Sir. May I walk to you?”

“No.” Based on the startled look on her face, I knew my curt reply confused her even more.

Good. I needed Emma off-guard, on edge, and unsure what command I’d toss out next. It was the only way I could gauge her true feelings.

“Rise and sit on the edge of the bed…facing me, then lie back.”

As she timidly complied and lowered onto the mattress—like an all-you-can-eat buffet—my cock jerked, and my mouth watered. The sight of her heaving breasts and stony nipples reaching toward the ceiling with the shallow breaths filling her lungs made me want to howl.

There were a million reasons why she shouldn’t, but everything about the little liar turned me inside out. Like a moth to flame, my gaze froze on the golden, glistening curls shrouding her cunt.

Unable to stop myself, I stood and strode to the side of the bed. Her milky-white skin—all but begging to be marked with my teeth and seed—glowed against the steel-gray comforter.

Though her dark, short hair was pretty, I selfishly wished Emma’s long, golden hair was spilling like a halo across my bed…or cinched in my tight fist. But as her big hazel eyes—filled with curiosity, unease, and arousal—wildly darted between my face and my weeping dick, I honestly didn’t give a fuck what her hair looked like.

I only wanted her watching me, while I watchedher.

Cupping the back of one calf, then the other, I placed Emma’s feet flat on the mattress. Then I cupped her knees and slowly parted her legs. I watched a crimson blush climb her chest and stain her cheeks while filling my lungs with her heady musk. Swallowing the saliva pooling in my mouth, I struggled to keep from staring at her proffered pussy and blindly guided her hand to her hot cunt.

“Is your pussy wet?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Wrong answer,” I tsk’d. “It’s not your pussy tonight, little one. It’smine.” Drinking in the tremor quaking her body, I arched a brow. “I’ll ask again…is your pussy wet?”

“No, Sir, butyoursis,” she replied, eyes dilating with arousal.

My chest tightened. She’d caught on quickly…almost too quickly. She might not like humiliation, but I’d bet the ranch she’d lose her mind with role play. As kinky scenarios crowded my brain, a drop of pre-come slid off my aching crest.

“Show me,” I demanded.

Scraping my gaze down her silky flesh, I locked a hungry stare on her pink, swollen folds. She was dripping wet. Warring with the demand to dive between her legs and latch my mouth over her flowing slit, I wrapped a fist around my cock and slowly started stroking.

Emma licked her lips as she watched my hand glide up and down my angry shaft.

“See what you do to me, little one? See how hard you make me?” I taunted. “Show me what I do to you. Spread those pretty, pouty lips and let me see how wet that juicy little cunt is for my fat cock.”

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