"So you're really not going to fuck me, Luca?" she asked, tilting her head to meet his gaze.
"I am going to," he said slowly, "but not for the wrong reasons. Not until you go on your knees and beg me to."
"So you want to humiliate me," she whispered. Her fingers traced the outline of his biceps.
"Is what you just felt humiliation?" he asked, tilting his head, the smirk dark and knowing, his eyes glinting with amusement and challenge.
"No." She had been undone, and yet she hadn't felt humiliated; she had felt seen, exposed in a way that left her trembling and terrified and completely addicted.
"Then no," he said. "I'm going to take us both places we've never been before. I'm going to make it beautiful, inspired—but you will beg for that level of pleasure, my sweet. I love it when you beg."
There was fear and anticipation swirling in her, but beneath it all was an intoxicating pulse of surrender, of trust, of desire so sharp it left her dizzy.
