With trembling rage, I lean forward, my teeth grazing his fingers as I take the bite.
I want it to hurt.
He doesn’t flinch. Just watches, his smirk deepening as I chew, as I swallow.
The taste of him lingers on my tongue. Salt. Heat. Power.
And I hate how much I crave another.
Hayden Herron
I watch her, chewing through her defiance like she can swallow it down with the food she just took willingly from my hand. Her cheeks are burning from the humiliation of kneeling; she’s still shaking from the weight of her surrender. And yet, she’s not broken. Not even close.
I didn’t expect her to be this interesting. I expected rebellion, yes. I expected her to claw at her leash, snap at my control. But I hadn’t expected her bratty little tantrum to turn me on the way it did.
The sharpness in her gaze, the venom in her words, only makes me want to push her further. See how far I can take her before she shatters.
She glares at me now, chest rising and falling with every angry breath, and my gaze dips lower, following the silk as it molds to her curves. She’s beautiful like this—furious, undone, trapped in the contradiction of her own body betraying her. I wonder if she realizes how much I savor watching her resist me, how much I crave seeing what she'll do when I push her even further. Harder. I can be a ruthless motherfucker.
My cock twitches against my slacks as I lean back on my haunches, letting my gaze drag over her like a brand. I crouch in front of her, watching how her petite chest rises and falls in anger as she remains perfectly silent. If you didn’t look close enough, you’d almost think she’s tame.
She’s not tame. Yet.
But she will be.
I watch her throat work as she swallows, as if choking down more than just the food. The defiance, the humiliation, the knowledge that she obeyed me. She must know it only makes me want more.
My hand moves before I decide to do it, reaching for her face. My fingers trace the edge of her jaw, then slip lower, my thumb dragging over the corner of her mouth. The lipstick smears instantly, staining her skin in a messy, ruined red streak. I hum, tilting my head as I take her in, enjoying the sight of her like this, imperfect, disheveled, all because of me.
“You look better like this,” I murmur, my voice low, satisfied. “All messy for me.”
Her nostrils flare, fury sparking in her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away. Not yet. I can see it in the way she stiffens, the way her fingers twitch like she wants to slap me but knows she won’t. Knows she can’t.
A slow smirk curves my lips.
She’s learning, and I can see that she was bred to behave in a certain way. No matter how much she fights it, she's desperate to be successful in her obedience. A perfect, posh, blue-blooded princess, messy in front of me. On her knees forme.
I let my thumb linger at her lip, pressing, smearing more of the red across her cheek. “You think this is the worst I’ll do to you?” My voice is amused, almost soft, like I’m letting her in on a secret, “I could make a mess of you in ways you can’t even imagine.”
Her breath catches, barely noticeable, but I catch it anyway. It’s in the way her pulse flutters at her throat, the way she’s fighting not to react. I grin.
She wants to hate me.
She does hate me.
And I hate her too. I want to ruin her for taking up so much of my focus, for consuming my thoughts.
But I can see the way her body betrays her. And that,that, is my favorite part.
“You can glare at me all you’d like,” I continue, my hand slipping lower, ghosting over the delicate line of her throat, feeling her swallow again. “How often you’re punished for your misbehavior is up to you, after all.”
Her teeth clench. “Go to hell.”
I laugh, dark and low, as I lean in just enough that she can feel the heat of my breath against her skin. “Darling,” I whisper, letting my lips barely graze the shell of her ear, knowing I’ll gladly make her worst nightmares come true, “you’re already there.”
I feel her shudder, barely, but enough. Enough for my fingers to tighten at her throat in the subtlest hint of possession before I pull away, studying her, waiting.
I give her a look that implies a dare as I stand.
