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Jordan is a pretty thing, and I’m going to collect a debt I’d once written off.
“I expect the truth from you, no matter what your opinion is or what you think mine will be. Under no circumstances are you to ever lie to me about anything. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” She nods and takes one more sip. I take the bottle from her and hold it behind me for Rafael to grab.
“Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“Have you had sexual intercourse with anyone other than Zachary Canvani?”
Her brow pinches. I hold back my laugh. Surely she’s wondering how I know about that.
“No.”
“When was the last time you had sexual intercourse with him?”
“Thanksgiving.”
She answers quickly, so I believe her. Their break-up was only a few months ago, so it’s probably true. They weren’t living together, and the shit stain Canvani boy was too busy fucking everyone else.
“Do you masturbate?” Her cheeks flush. “No lying.”
“Yes,” she says quietly, her cheeks turning pinker.
So, she’s shy. I won’t push that for now, but she’ll have to get over it soon.
I place my hands on the arms of the chair and bend so we’re eye level.
“Do you fuck yourself, Jordan? Or do you rub that needy little clit of yours?”
“I—um…”
I don’t miss the way the pulse in her throat picks up, or the way her lips part to take in more air.
“Answer me, Jordan.”
“I just…”
Her cheeks get brighter and brighter as the seconds pass—exciting. I enjoy her embarrassment, but I don’t enjoy her defiance.
“Do I need to repeat the question?” I ask firmly.
“No, sir.”
“Then answer the question.”
“I rub my clit.” She rushes the words out, turning her head away. I grasp her chin and force her to look at me.
“Do you not enjoy fucking yourself?”
“No,” she breathes out.
“No…”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
