“Rules?” She pouts.
 
 “Yes, Kitten. More rules.” I grip her chin—firm enough to make her wince, but not hard enough to bruise. “You don’t stand unless I tell you to. You don’t speak unless I ask a question. Every time you mess up, the punishment gets worse.”
 
 “Fine,” she continues to pout, but all it does is turn me on.
 
 I shift her forward until her weight is off her heels and on her knees, the perfect specimen with her ass in the air, and slap her bare skin. “What did I say about speaking?”
 
 She stays quiet, so I spank the other cheek.
 
 “You said not to talk—” she blurts.
 
 “Unless?”
 
 Her eyes widen. “Unless you ask a question, sir.”
 
 “Color?”
 
 “Green, sir.”
 
 “Good girl. Any questions before we begin?”
 
 “What did you hide?”
 
 “A gift,” I say simply, then move to the far wall. “Ready?”
 
 “Yes, sir,” she says, shifting onto her hands and knees.
 
 “Take three moves forward.” I lean and watch the way she moves—the hint of her breasts at the neckline, the slight shake in her thighs.
 
 “Now left two paces.”
 
 She shuffles two, then sneaks forward one.
 
 “Stop. Back to the start.”
 
 She shoots me a heated glare—enough to earn the next punishment. I say nothing, push her to sit up, and rip the white shirt straight down the middle. “Only good girls get clothes.”
 
 “But I?—”
 
 Her protest dies when I push her forward and smack her ass again. “Make me correct this one more time and it won’t be your ass I’m spanking. Do you understand?”
 
 “Yes, sir.”
 
 I have her crawl the room for another fifteen minutes, resetting her every few instructions. My handprint glows on her creamy skin. Tears trail down her cheeks and her mascara runs. She looks ruined in the best possible way.
 
 Almost. That lipstick will be wrecked soon enough, though.
 
 “Okay, Kitten. Three more steps forward and reach into the top drawer.”
 
 She follows the instruction, and warmth settles in my chest—the clean line of control when everything obeys me.
 
 I don’t break my little kitten. I tame her.
 
 I own her—at least for now. We’ll see how long she lasts. The others might have a claim too, but here, in this moment, she’s only mine. She bends to my will alone and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen
 
 She sits back on her heels with two black velvet boxes in her hands, eyes on the floor first, then rising through her lashes. She doesn’t dare speak.
 
 “Come here, Kitten. Bring the boxes.” She hugs them to her chest with one arm and crawls to me with the other.