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I guess we’ll find out.

The lace straps pull down her thighs and catch at her knees, and I’m already getting hard by the time I see her step out of each side, careful not to catch the delicate fabric with the rough heel of the pumps I picked out for her.

I step between her legs, forcing them to apart, fingers digging into the soft meat of her thighs as a rough pull drags her forward, until her ass teeters on the edge of the counter. I reach downand grab her panties, catching her eyes as I place them to my nose and suck down a deep inhale. I hear her breath catch when my tongue darts out and swipes across the wet patch she’s left behind for me.

I roll them into a ball and stuff them in my pocket.

“Hands up,” I tell her, gathering my tie in one hand, and then her supple wrists in the other. I bring them together and hold them there, wrapping the tie around once, and then twice, tight enough that maybe it will jog her memory, but not tight enough to hurt.

I want her to remember the night that drove her into my arms.

I want to remember the first night I fucked her while looking into her eyes.

I want the thought in her head and the tension in her muscles.

I tie them in a soft ribbon and then kiss each and every one of her fingers before leaning over her and pinning her hands above her head.

She should remember that.

She doesn’t look scared, and I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that.

She looks a little unsure, but that’s as deep as that rabbit hole goes.

I can’t decide if I like that or not.

My other hand finds the top button of her dress, popping it open, and letting my fingertip play across the top of her perfect tits—tits that will soon be swollen with milk and feeding my child.

Another button slips free under my fingers. The scarlet bra looks like a puddle of fresh blood across her chest.

Beautiful.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to the side of her throat. I can feel muscles tense, and sinew pull tight, showing me that even as bad as she wants this, her faith has been driven deep, andshe still thinks it’s wrong. I can feel her jugular pulse against my mouth, the blood flowing like a river just under the surface of her skin. My tongue traces the line of her windpipe, tasting salt and fear.

My teeth scrape gently—just enough to make her gasp—and she arches up to me despite her fear.

My hands move to the remaining buttons of her dress, working methodically down the front, until she’s exposed for me. I slide my body down hers, pressing my lips to exposed skin, tasting her, marking her.

Reaching up, I grab one cup of the bra and pull it away, and her nipples are already hard and swollen for me. I pull one into my mouth and suck, swirling my tongue around it, gently at first, and then with a sharp bite to remind her who she belongs to.

I allow my free hand to slide lower, over the silk, down to where her thighs meet. She’s wet—not that I expected anything else. She’s dripping for me. Maybe I’ll hire someone specifically to wipe her cum off this counter when I’m done with her.

“Remember what I told you earlier,” I whisper. “You’re not allowed to cum without me.”

“Mhmm.”

“And what does that mean?”

She swallows, hard, and I feel it click in her throat.

“I-I don’t—”

“If you touch yourself?” I say, pushing past her folds and drilling my fingers into her throbbing pussy. “I will know, and I’ll have to punish you.”

“P-punish me… h-how?”

I chuckle, and I make sure it’s deep and dark, and I curl my fingers against her spot while I do it.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” I tell her, pushing harder. She squirms. “But it doesn’t matter, because you’re gonna be a good little girl and do what you’re told, aren’t you?”