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When he reaches for lipstick, I catch his wrist. “That one?”

“Yes.”

“It’s dark.”

“I know.”

I let his wrist go. I don’t let his cock go.

Jamie takes his time with my mouth. He doesn’t touch me anywhere else while he does it. All his attention sits on my lips, his face close, one hand under my chin, the other moving color while my fist stays wrapped around him under the skirt, still.

When he’s finished, he steps back as far as my grip allows. “Look.”

I turn toward the mirror.

The green around my eyes is darker than anything I would’ve chosen, sharpened with black at the edges. The lipstick makes my mouth look like it already did something filthy.

I tilt my face toward the light.

Jamie watches me in the mirror. “You like it.”

“Yes.”

His smile comes slowly.

I turn the chair back toward him. Jamie doesn’t step away.

I take my hand off his cock long enough to take his face in both hands. “You made me pretty.”

“You were already pretty.”

“I know.” My thumb passes over the little scar on his lip.

Jamie’s smile disappears. His hands settle on the arms of my chair, boxing me in without touching me. He doesn’t step back when I pull his face closer. His eyes drop to my mouth again.

“You want to kiss me.”

Jamie looks at me again. “You’re very fucking sure of yourself for someone who hit me with a ruler.”

“You deserved it.”

His mouth twitches. “And you think I want to kiss you.”

I slide one hand back into his hair and the other back under the skirt, tight around him. “I think you are going to.”

Jamie looks at my mouth again.

I don’t wait. I kiss him.

He goes still for half a second before his mouth opens against mine.

There’s my good doll, buried underneath all that no.

I pull him closer.

Jamie catches the back of my chair, then my shoulder, and suddenly he’s kissing me back hard enough that I taste the lipstick he just put on me.

His hand slides into my hair. Mine stays tangled in his, keeping him exactly where I want him while I kiss him again.