"I'm not going to say it again," I tell her impatiently, unimpressed by her attitude. "Do you want me to encourage you with a little spanking? Because that can very well be arranged."
She inhales a deep breath and is about to say something, when I cut her off again.
"You won't like it, though. And I can't promise to keep your clothes in one piece.” I pause to make sure she’s paying attention to my next works. "Or you."
Her eyes narrow again. She's seething with rage.
Hungry rage. Needy rage.
I don't even have to tell her to keep her eyes on me when she finally begins peeling away her clothes. She unbuttons her blouse first, her gaze locked on mine the entire time. Her eyes don't move away when she lets the blouse slide down over her shoulders, and not when she unbuttons her jeans and steps out of them, when she kicks off her shoes, or even when she reaches around to unhook her bra. She's wearing a cute little white bra and panty set decorated with lace, but it’s of mediocre quality, at best. She'll have to get used to wearing higher quality lingerie once she's living with me.
My eyes don't evade her unwavering gaze when the bra drops to the floor, exposing her perky breasts in front of me, as hard as it is. It would feel like a defeat, and I'll have plenty of opportunity to savor them in the future.
This is when she stops. She’s standing before me, wearing nothing but her lacy panties and breathing erratically, though she’s trying to appear calm. I cast her an impatient look, nodding toward her.
"You're not done."
Instead of following my command, she breaks another rule by raising her voice.
"You remove the rest… Sir."