I opened my mouth a few times, taken back by the vulgarity of the question despite where our respective hands were.

The words weren’t easy to come by and I licked my lips nervously, trying to cling on to some romantic notion that a man wasn’t supposed to call a woman a dirty little slut.

Smack!

His hand left my breast and tapped me on the cheek, hard enough to sting, make an impressively loud sound, and turn my head to the side a bit.

It wasn’t hard enough to imply that he’d lost control. No, it was exactly the opposite, he’d done it to show his control.

“I asked...