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"Don’t defy me."
She tips up her chin. "What’re you going to do, eh? Spank me?"
My gaze narrows. My balls throb. The thought of throwing her over my lap, revealing the creamy curve of her arse, then stamping her with my palm print sends my pulse rate through the roof.
"You’d better be careful about what comes next from your mouth, baby."
She makes a rude noise at the back of her throat. "You’re all talk and no action,baby."
My vision tunnels. Adrenaline laces my blood. At the same time, a quiet descends on me. This, right here, is where I'm meant to be. Regardless of the issues with my career and hers, we’re meant to be together. It’s why I swallowed my pride to come to her. It’s why I’m going to find a way to resurrect her popularity and mine. It’s why… I’m going to give her one last chance to escape. I bend and peer into her eyes. "You’d better hop away, Rabbit."
She blinks rapidly.
"Wh-whatever do you mean?"
In her eyes is the knowledge that she’s toying with me. That she’s aware I’m dangerously close to the edge. That she’s pushing me until I snap, but that she’s past caring. So am I.
"If you don’t try to escape, you’ll always rue that you didn’t even try."
She tips up her chin. "I’m not scared of you."
"You should be."
She leans forward until her nose bumps mine. "I’m. Not. Running."
"Neither. Am. I."
Those golden flecks in her eyes glow. Her pupils dilate until there’s only a circle of emerald around the pupils.
"Last chance."
She pulls back her lips. "Vaffanculo stronz—"
The next second she gasps, for I’ve pulled my hand from her grasp, gripped her waist and flipped her over so she’s kneeling on the sofa.
"What the fuck—!"
"You will watch your language around me."
"Go fuck yourself, you—"
I flip up the hem of the dress, which is too fucking short—and which I need to have a word with her about—but for now, it gives me easy access to her butt.
I yank down her panties and spank her.
She yells, tries to jump off, but I flatten my palm in the small of her back. "If you want me to stop, use your safe word."
"I don’t have one, youtesta di cazzo."
And that’s the problem."Choose one now."
She hesitates.
"You know what that is, thanks to your smutty books, so don’t pretend otherwise. Choose. A. Safe. Word. Rabbit. Now."
"Unlucky," she bursts out.
Is this a reference to the good luck charms I’ve been sending her before each of her shows?The ones she’s wearing attached to the bracelet on her wrist.
