ABRAHAM — The Lycan King
I sobbed, voice cracking, “I’m sorry for what I said, please don’t cut my hair. I’m begging you, Lady Morgan — please.”
I even clutched at her legs, trembling.
Rubbie’s hand pressed down on the back of my neck, shoving me lower.
“Fucking lick her shoe, then we might consider,” she sneered.
My heart shriveled, but I nodded, looking at Morgan’s shoe, and lowered my mouth to it, licking the leather.
“What a fucking dog!” someone shouted.
“She’s really licking it, Gab,” Quilly gasped.
"Yes, because that's what dogs do to their owners," Rubbie added.
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