"I understand," I tell him firmly. "And I agree."
"The last thing I want to do is cause you pain without causing you any pleasure."
I take a step forward.
"I understand," I repeat, slower this time.
He takes a breath.
"Well then," he mutters. "Let's begin."
Before I can blink, his arms are wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around roughly and shoving my front onto the desk, my ass high in the air. I grunt as my cheek smacks the desk, imagining him smirking from behind me. He is flush against me, running one hand up and down my thigh and holding me in place by the back of my neck with the other.
He hums at the sight of me, fingers toying with the hem of my dress.
"Always dressing like you're ready to get f****d," he mutters, hand dipping under the skirt to palm my ass. My breath
