“Pathetic,” he muttered. “Still dripping. Still clenching for me.”
“I didn’t mean to lie,” I whispered.
“But you did.” His voice hardened, his fingers pressing against the inside of my thigh. “And now you’re going to pay for it.”
“I’m sorry,” I breathed.
“Are you?”
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, and I could see it now..that twisted, dark hunger fighting with something deeper. Something angrier.
“You want me to forgive you?” he asked. “Then prove it.”
“How?”
“Strip.”
My breath hitched.
“Right here?” I whispered.
He leaned in.
“I just heard my daughter brag about an orgy,” he said coldly. “I’m in the mood to erase everything I heard.”
His thumb traced the edge of my inner thigh, slow and cruel.
“So take off my shirt, Lyra. Bend over. And let me punish you fo
