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“Just fine?”
“None of your business,” Saoirse snaps.
“So it feels good, then?”
“Don’t talk to me.” She hobbles into her jeans, then slides on her shirt, buttoning it up hastily.
“No bra, or panties,” I say with a smirk. “God. Your pussy is drenched and you’re going commando. Is it because you’re hoping I’ll take you to the bathroom and fuck you in the middle of dinner?”
I stalk toward her, and she presses her back against the dresser. I take her chin between my fingers, driving her eyesight to me. “Because I won’t.”
“Why? Because I don’t deserve it?” Her jaw ticks, then her eyes dart away from me.
I press my lips against her ear. “Because you’ve been bad. Only good girls get the warm feel of cock inside of them. Take the rest of your punishment later, and I’ll call you my good princess while you choke on my dick.”
I release my hold, then head out of the bedroom so she can finish getting ready and compose herself.
“I’d rather choke on glass,” she calls at my back.
I tilt my head back and let out a fit of amused laughter.
Lies.
Ipullthecarinto the parking garage of Callum’s penthouse, and before I even shut off the engine, Saoirse is out of the car and stomping toward the elevator. I chuckle, climbing out myself, while she stands there, arms crossed, her red lips in a scowl.
She squirmed the entire way here, not able to adjust to the feel of the plug inside of her, and each time she moved, she let out an exhaustingly loud huff of frustration. Thing is though, angry Saoirse gets my blood going, so I’m considering this my foreplay.
I reach her, and she presses the up button, her fingers slamming into it with her frustration.
“Are you going to be like this the rest of the evening?” I ask as the doors ding and we step on.
She turns her head away from me, not responding. Oh, I love the silent treatment too. It’s only a challenge for me. How long will it be until she folds? What will it take? All things I can guess and bet against myself with.
If I have her forgiving me by the end of dinner, maybe I’ll shave off those last four edgings. That’ll make me disappointed. They may get me off, but she doesn’t want them, and I want her happy. However, I’m betting the probability of her forgiving me by then is slim to none. I hum, liking those odds.
I may make her miserable, but she can make me miserable too, sometimes. Like this fucking dinner with her brother, when all I want to do is be buried inside of her, to finish my torturing on Vlad, and to curl up in bed with her nestled into my side.
“My mom wants to have us for dinner tomorrow,” I say as the cart begins to move.
She shoots me a side-eye, but doesn’t respond.
“She’s making us something special. Something you can eat.”
Nothing.
The elevator doors open, spitting us into Callum’s penthouse. She turns, glaring at me. “I’ll have lunch with your mother tomorrow. You can have dinner with her. And I’m moving into the penthouse here until my house is fixed.”
Then, she steps off the elevator, smiling as if she didn’t just take my heart from my chest and rip it into a million fine pieces.
I follow her, my steps faltering when I catch Corbin standing from the couch and wrapping Saoirse into a hug. Blood rushes to my ears, a humming filling them. Everyone turns to me, watching me as I gather my composure.
With each inhale, I focus on her, and not the jackass that she’s forcing me to have dinner with. She tricked me to get me here. My disdain for the man may be unwarranted, a jealousy for him almost having what I couldn’t. But now, it shouldn’t matter. I’ve got her, she’s mine.
“Scotty?” Saoirse says. “Corbin just asked you how your wound is.”
“It’s fine,” I force out, grinding my teeth. “Saoirse, what are we doing here?”
She drops her purse onto the coffee table, then plops into a seat. “Sit,” she demands, her green eyes holding me captive. The urge to protest is there, but resists against her order.
