Iva’s P.O.V.
I take a deep breath before I enter the storeroom and shut the door.
Will is standing, leaning casually against a table, arms folded over his chest. The single overhead bulb throws shadows over his face, but I can still see his eyes. They’re dark, locked on me, burning with anger.
My fingers tighten around my handbag. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. For the first time, he is going to punish me when he is angry. I should be afraid, but I’m not. Not even a bit. Instead, I’m excited.
“Strip.” The command lands in the air like a gavel.
I swallow hard but obey, my eyes fixed on anything but him. As my clothes drop to the floor, the cold air prickles against my bare skin. Now I’m standing there in nothing but my heels and glasses.
He likes me like that.
Then he curls h
