“The fantasy,” I whisper nervously.
His free hand comes up and wraps around my neck while his other comes around and massages my breast. “What about it?”
“You told me last night to tell you what I wanted in order to act out my fantasy.” Something about our conversation last night took a weight off my shoulders. I woke up feeling lighter—more confident in myself and what I want.
“I did,” he agrees, his teeth sinking into my skin.
I swallow the moan and focus on what I’m trying to say before I lose my nerve. “I’m telling you now, I want you to pick.”
“How I act it out?” he confirms.
I nod. “Yeah.”
Smirking, he meets my eyes in the mirror. “Last chance.”
I frown. “For what?”
“To rethink that.” I go to ask what he means when he continues, “Because you might not want to give me that ki
