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“It wasn’t your reaction I was worried about, it was mine. After eating the best pussy I ever tasted, then being dismissed, I was in bad shape.”

“Was it really?”

“The best? Easily.”

She hums, then says, “I didn’t dismiss you.”

“You said ‘thank you.’”

“I was being polite. It was nice.”

Nice. Nice? It wasn’t nice what we did. It was carnal.

“You didn’t know it was me until I told you.” She didn’t say anything to suggest she knew it was me, not during the fact or after. And I’m pretty sure if she did know, she would’ve said something a hell of a lot snarkier than “thank you.”

“I knew.” The grin she pulls is pure arrogance.

“The whole time?”

Eyes still closed, she nods.

“Did you actually?”

“No,” she confesses with a giggle. “I thought it might be and I kinda hoped it was.”

“Kinda?” Who else was in the running?

“But I figured it out before you said it.”

“How?”

“I saw my bitemark on your neck.”

“Whe—”

“About half a second before you kissed me.”

I forgot about that. I rub the spot she bit, but there’s no sign of her teeth imprint.

“I don’t know how anyone can mistake you for meek,” I tell her.

When her eyes open, they automatically sync up with mine, like they’re already on the same network.

“Did you like when I told you what to do?”

Cocking my head, I tease, “What did you tell me to do?”

“Devour me.”

Fuck. I loved when she said that.

My cock grows at the memory.

“I obeyed, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want to be your Dommy either.”

“I don’t want you to be my fucking Dommy.”