His smirk lingered, slow and dangerous, like he was savoring the thought of exactly how far he was about to take me.

He didn’t give me a second to catch my breath. His hands caught my wrists and slammed them flat against the warm metal of the dryer. I could feel the vibrations through my chest, each hum syncing with the pounding in my veins.

“You’re not done,” he said, voice low and sharp. “Not until I’ve fucked every last bit of that brat out of you.”

He shoved my legs apart with his knee, bending to bite at my shoulder hard enough to make me gasp. His teeth dragged...