“Hold on a second, please. The tattoo? Hello?”
He selects a croissant from the tray and strolls back to the bed. Standing over me, he tears off a piece and holds it out.
“Open your mouth.”
“Callum, please tell—”
He slides the piece of torn croissant between my lips, cutting me off.
I consider spitting it back onto his hand, but chew and swallow instead.
No argument is worth wasting pastries over.
He tears off another piece and holds it to my closed lips. Gazing up at him, I shake my head. It makes him smirk.
“So stubborn. I guess you don’t want to hear about my tattoo after all.”
I close my eyes, count to ten, then open my eyes and my mouth at the same time.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, eyes alight. “f**k, how I love it when you’re obedient.”
He feeds me another piece, sliding his t
