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“Now, little nightmare. Let’s see if we can do it the right way.”

28

DAMIANO

Control has always come easily to me. But right now, it’s hanging by a thread.

Bella is stretched across the edge of the bed: naked, her thighs slightly open, her face and chest flushed and her pupils dilated as I loom over her.

The sheer size difference between us borders on obscene.

She’s five foot two, tops.

I’m six-five, and I easily weigh twice as much.

Standing between her bent knees, I feel fucking enormous. And apparently some deeply questionable part of my brain finds that fucking hot. My eyes drag over her bare torso, sliding down to the apex of her thighs to feast on the pink, swollen lips of her pussy.

My gaze slides higher, over the small trimmed triangle of dark hair. Over her navel, and then higher, imagining the length of my cock and groaning at the thought of stuffing her with it.

Her eyes are huge by the time my gaze slides back to her face. Her lips are still parted a slightly shocked "O", and my jaw fucking grinds when her little pink tongue swipes across her lower lip.

I hold out my hand.

“Give it to me.”

Her brows pull together.

“What?”

“The toy, Bella,” I growl quietly. “If you’re going to use it, use it properly.”

I groan when I see that flicker of irritation and defiance in her eyes.

But the best part is the war that comes right after.

When her pathological need to throw up a middle finger, assert her independence, and tell me to go fuck myself because she can do everything herself crashes headlong into something just as powerful.

Her need to submit.

To finally drop all the defiance and stubbornness she carries around every waking second of her life.

To allow herself to become my submissive little whore.

The whore I’m going to fuck until she can’t walk straight.

The war inside her begins to tip back over to defiance. But before she can open her mouth, I shove her knees back and crack the flat of my palm against the cheek of her ass. Bella yelps, and the defiance in her eyes turns to lethal fire.

“Properly?!” she snaps. “If you for one fucking second⁠—”

I spank her again, eliciting a gorgeously throaty moan. This time, instantly, that fire melts into something else. Her sneer collapses into a parted-lip, flushed-face, glassy-eyed look that sends heat straight through me.

She whimpers when I brace a hand by her head and lower myself over her, caging her beneath my huge frame. The stubborn crease between her brows eases. Her lips part, and heat flashes behind her eyes.

“You think the way you take your coffee is the only thing I’ve noticed?”

Bella swallows.

“I've noticed how much you like being in control.”