He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her sides.
"No," he said. "I control this. I control you. You don't touch me unless I say you can touch me. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes... sir."
The submission in her voice, the way she gave him control so completely, made something feral rise up inside him.
He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her down on her back.
"Two months," he said, looking down at her naked body spread before him. "Two months since I've had you. Do you know what I've been thinking about every day? Every single fucking day?"
"What?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"This," he said, running his hand down her body. From her collarbone to her ribs to her waist to the apex of her thighs. "Your body. Your pussy. The way you scream my name. The way you come on my cock."
His fingers found her clit, and she gasped, her hips immediately arching toward his touch.
