The Taste of Submission
He didn't look annoyed, though; he looked pleased, like a predator that had finally cornered its.
"Stop," he pushed the desk and stepped closer. "Your voice is trembling in the dirty part. That pleases me, Lana. It shows me how innocent you really are."
He paused, his eyes glinting with that dark, commanding light. "Now, touch your thigh while you read the next paragraph. Run your hand slowly up and down. Feel how your warm skin gets just from reading my words."
My eyes widened, but I obeyed. My hand moved to rest on my thigh just below the hem of my skirt. I started reading again, my palm sliding slowly over my own skin as the fabric of my skirt rustled softly.