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“Are you thinking about me?”

My pulse jumped.

“Someone else?” He reached down, fingers sliding into my hair and gripping the back of my head. My bun loosened under his hand. “Look at me.”

I did.

The mask hid most of him, but his mouth gave him away. Tight. Hungry. Needing something he would never ask for softly.

“Tell me it’s me,” he said.

My hand stilled around his cock. His grip tightened just enough to make my scalp prickle.

“Not hunger, not the books. Tell me it’s not for money or power.” His voice dropped. “Me.”

I swallowed. “It’s you. I want you.”

His breath hitched.

“Again.”

“It’s you.”

His thumb brushed my cheek, a touch too gentle for the way his voice sounded when he spoke next.

“Good girl.”

My body clenched around my fingers.

His smile went sharp. “Oh, you liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

He hauled me forward and down, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it to my lips.

“Open your mouth, Little Flower.”

I wanted to taste him. Trust me, I did. But he was having a little too much fun bossing me around. So instead of obeying, I looked up through my lashes and glared.

That bastard smiled.

I was about to say something smart when his grip tightened in my hair and his other hand came down hard on my ass.

I gasped.

His hips pushed forward, filling my open mouth with his cock. A moan tore out of me around him.

“Now is not the time to act like a brat,” he said, voice rough and ruined. “Don’t challenge me unless you want me to remind you exactly who you chose.”

Heat ripped through me.

He slid back, then thrust forward again, hitting the back of my throat just enough to make my eyes water.

“Hands on my thighs.”

I obeyed.