“Right now? Or if you keep vexing me?” To my surprise his thumb finds my bottom lip. He hums to himself as he tilts my chin back so I’m looking up at the ceiling, my neck feeling very exposed. “If I mark up your neck, everyone will know you’re mine.”
“I’m not–” I manage to pull away this time. Rosier doesn’t attempt to grab me again, the hand that was holding my chin now resting on the back of the couch. “I’m not yours–not yet.”
“Yet.”
It occurs to me that he could also make a contract with anyone. I doubt a lot of people are summoning devils these days, but he’s already on the Mortal Plane. I’m sure there’s someone who would sell their soul for a bigger butt and lips. And plenty of people that would sell their soul for money. Maybe those things are all too boring for him.
“You want me,” I say finally. Rosier stiffens. “But you can’t have me. That must drive a Prince like you crazy. Has anyone ever told you no before?”
“I deniedyourcontract,” he reminds me.
“But you still want a contract,” I shoot back. “Very intriguing…”
Rosier makes a face I can only describe as a pout. “I ought to spank you.”
“You wish.” It’s my turn to lean into him. I get on my knees in an attempt to look taller than him, but at most we’re eye level. “You’ve been wanting me to sleep with you since the first night you got here. Now you’re talking about spanking me when you know–”
I’ve put myself in a corner.
“When I know what, Minnie?” An unsurprisingly devilish smile pulls at his lips. “That you get off on that? Sweet little witch like you with a drawer full of whips and paddles.”
“I don’t have whips–don’t be dramatic.”
“You want to see something dramatic?” His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me forward, but instead of sitting up in his lap, he lays me across his legs. It’s a familiar position, one I usually have to beg guys to put me in. I brace myself for impact but Rosier’s hand runs along my spine. The anticipation kills me, and my bottom lip quivers.
He leans down, his curls brushing my cheeks and neck. “That. That is dramatic. Action is dramatic. Not your nipping words raging in my ear like an insolent imp.”
“You haven’t actually hit me.” I point out, my voice distant even in my own ears.
The hand stroking my back reaches my butt and palms it. Rosier hums with content. “Why would I give you exactly what you want?”
“Because you want it, too.” I bite my lip, expecting, hoping that will be enough for him to slap my rear.
Instead, his voice rumbles, “Stand up. Take off your clothes.”
I’m tempted to tell him no–just to see what he does. I sit back on my heels and start unbuttoning the buttons of my jumpsuit.
Rosier grabs my wrist. “Stand up. Give me a show.”
Is he serious? It’s a jumpsuit; how am I supposed to make that sexy? But I go stand in front of him. He leans into the couch, his arms outstretched, then spreads his legs. He looks at me like I’m the only other thing in the room. I pull at my buttons, practically tearing them off.
“Slower,” he growls.
I mutter, “Usually people charge for this sort of stuff.”
Most of the buttons on the top of my jumpsuit are already undone, so I start sliding down the long sleeves one at a time, letting them hang off my shoulders. My cleavage is exposed, and I know Rosier can see the edges of my worn pink bra. I trace a finger from my collarbone down my sternum, brushing my fingertips along my breasts. Rosier hums with approval.
I pull more fabric down away from my chest, waiting for Rosier to do… something. Say something gross or start touching himself. Instead he watches me, and in turn, I can’t stop watching him. The top of the jumpsuit hangs around my waist.
“Turn around.” He lifts a finger and makes a little twirling motion.
I hate doing as he says, but I know I have a great butt–and I know my panties are actually cute today, pastel purple with lace at the edges that hugs my curves. I turn around and slip my thumbs into the waistband of the jumpsuit, swaying my hips as I slowly push the clothing down my body. When half my rear is exposed, I stop pulling at the fabric but keep moving my hips.
Rosier grumbles before that gravely voice of his gives me another command. “Keep going. I want to see those thighs.”
All this just to see me in a pair of panties and an old bra that doesn’t do my chest any favors.
My butt is completely exposed, and I bend over, sliding the pants down my legs. I take the opportunity to look past my legs back at Rosier, his hands still resting on the couch and his gaze firmly on my ass. Finally, I’ve completely stripped and I turn back around to face him.
