“Kiss my ass, you arrogant bastard!” Dakota shouted, voice echoing through the loft as she strutted away in nothing but thigh-high leather boots and a smirk that could ruin a man.
He loved that mouth on her — filthy, fearless, fucking perfect.
She knew exactly how to get under his skin and make him ache for control. And tonight, she was pushing every button.
“You forget who owns that mouth, sweetheart?” he growled, stepping forward, belt already sliding from his pants with a snap.
Dakota turned slowly, her eyes gleaming like a dare wrapped in sin. “You? Please. You don’t own anything unless I let you.” Her voice dripped defiance, even as she dropped to her knees with practiced grace, lips parted, ready.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Then beg me. Beg me like the little cock-hungry toy I know you are.”
She moaned — just softly — the sound of resistance cracking.
“Make me,” she whispered, tongue flicking at the corner of her mouth.
Challenge accepted.
He shoved her back against the wall, hand around her throat, just tight enough to remind her. “Open that smart mouth, baby. I’m going to fuck the words right out of it.”
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