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I picked out her outfit, laid it on her bed, and told her to put it on by the time I got back. Then I went downstairs to make some calls.
I shouldn’t have been shocked that pretty, bratty little Ivy would have completely ignored my instructions.
Dressed in my suit, I stalk up to her, leaning in so close that our foreheads almost touch. I wind my hand in her soft, thick hair and fist it so her head lifts and she meets my eye.
“You itching for some play, Pollyanna? That tight little ass of yours want my cock again? Or do you want me take off my belt and whip you?”
She makes a tiny noise with a trace of need that races straight to my dick.
I graze her ear with my lips. “Or do you want to blow me? Have me lick that sweet pussy until it explodes in my mouth? Iknow. You’re a greedy, naughty little slave who doesn’t know her place, who thinks she deserves to have my cock split that pussy apart.”
Ivy moans.
“Too bad.”
I reach down to slide my hand over her pussy. It’s slippery wet with her arousal. Her lips part, eyes falling half-closed.
She’s perfect.
Or she would be if I didn’t need her to suffer for her crimes. I slide a finger into her slit and swallow my own moan. Christ, that heat is exactly what my cock wants, what it needs.
From her.
“You’re cruel. So cruel.” She thrusts her hips against my hand, urging my fingers deeper. “You leave me here by myself after what happened between us the other night in that bathroom. You just walk away, like you always do when you don’t want to face me or what you’re feeling. No master treats their slave like that.”
“Someone’s been reading, haven’t they?”
“You make me want you and then you leave. Of course, I went online and read. And maybe I even started a profile on a kink site.” Her lips quirk upward in a challenging smirk.
Rage storms through me, even though I know she’s trying to work all the buttons she can to get what she wants. I thrust my hand up into her and then I pull it away.
“I’m very close to spanking you. The bad way. Real punishment, bruises in places that will make tonight agony for you. But I won’t.” I step away, my chest tight, my mind battling my body for control.
Ivy has a point. I should have provided at least a soft word before leaving her. Fuck, I should have provided after care for her. But I couldn’t. Because if I held her, bathed her, whisperedkind words to her, I’d have taken her. Fucked her. And I mean just straight out fucked her. No kink. Just sex.
“If you did put up a profile, I’ll…” I’ll kill any bastard who contacts her. But I stop myself from saying it because even to me it sounds a little psychotic. “I’ll make you regret it.”
The worst thing is, even though that sounds slightly unhinged—not the words but how I mean it—her eyes light up like I’ve given her a gift. And I don’t even think she realizes it.
I’m not a man given to such bullshit. I think things through. I do things for reasons. I have lusts, and they’re played out within my parameters. But it seems that when I push hers, she pushes mine right back.
Pollyanna is complex and dangerous beyond the prim and proper surface of sweetness and naïvete.
“Put your underwear on.”
Red lace. Extremely skimpy. The panties are made of the finest netted lace and satin. They sit low on the hips and cover her, but I can still see her cunt through the sheer material.
It’s not a thong. I don’t like them. They do nothing for a woman, and they look uncomfortable as all hell. I’m not saying no to a woman wearing them because they won’t be on long, but give me classy underwear like this any day and I’ll have her fuck me with them pulled to the side. I’ll even have her parade around in them.
The bra goes on next. Her tits peek out the top, dark pink nipples showing through the lace. Simple, see through, devastating, and for my eyes only.
Nobody other than me gets to see any of this.
I grab a green dress from her closet, ignoring the scowl on her face when I hand it to her. “This one.”
“Green and red? Really?”
“Planning to take your dress off, Pollyanna?”
