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He was so mean.
“I was thinking about making spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow.” Yes, anything but the Brussels sprouts he’d somehow snuck into the house.
My weird version of being an adult might’ve gotten us a bit of a strange wardrobe but at least I hadn’t started buying terrible vegetables.
Leif scoffed and refused to let me change the subject. “We can talk about it now or when you’re naked at my feet. Would that make it easier?”
Judging by the way his lips had curled up in a smirk, I might’ve looked shocked but I couldn’t tell because I was in shock.
“I’ll do it. You know I will.” Pulling his arm back from the table, he rested it in his lap as he lounged and looked completely at ease with the way he was ramping up his threats. “I’m starting to think I should get you a vibrating plug or something helpful to make my point when you’re trying to change the subject.”
What had he been reading when I’d taken my nap?
Lord, how had napping gone so wrong?
“I…” How was I supposed to respond to that? “I’m not changing the subject. Planning dinner is important. We said last week we needed to do more meal prep and planning.”
Our budget and the number of times we wanted to eat out in a week didn’t match at all.
“That is an important topic, yes, but it’s not the conversation we need to have at the moment.” Being either insanely Leif or deliberately a pain in the ass, he looked thoughtful. “How about we have that conversation after breakfast tomorrow?”
Both.
“That’s fine.” How was I supposed to respond to that without sounding irrational? “That will be a good time.”
Ugh.
“So, let’s go back to how you were feeling and what you needed.” There was a stubborn look on his face even though he was trying to look relaxed, and part of me wondered how he’d punish me if I started playing dumb.
“I…I need less cabbage in my life. I was trying to be subtle about that, but clearly, I need to be more deliberate about what I’m saying.” It was a desperate attempt and almost made him smile, but he was sticking to his gonna be a good Dom routine.
“You know, I think an interesting punishment for a naughty bottom would be to only be able to come by fucking for a week…maybe a month.” He looked entirely too interested in that idea for my comfort.
“There’s room in the budget to get you something to thrust into. You know, one of those fake pussy kind of things but with an ass instead.” There was something terrible in his eyes…he was starting to like that idea.
“No inside tails to wag. No fingers massaging your prostate.” Shaking his head, he looked like it would be a tragedy. “You wouldn’t even be able to imagine me fucking you from behind in the shower as I jerk you off.”
How did he know I’d been doing that?
His chuckle was so low and dark that it sent a shiver through me. “Thought so.”
Ugh.
“You wouldn’t even get to fuck yourself with that toy you think you have hidden behind the old towels.”
Oops.
His smirk was sexy and infuriating. “So, should we get back on topic or should we debate the limits on your punishment?”
He’d make me talk about that too?
Evil.
There was no way around it.
Somehow he’d been turned evil by jerking me off…and watching me wag my tail…and kissing my neck.
“I…would you like me to make dessert?” It was a desperate, last-ditch effort and he didn’t even bother acknowledging it which somehow made it worse.
