Desire rumbles inside me, like a storm building. “J’adore la façon don’t tu dis mon nom. Je veux que tu le fasses encore et encore,” I say over the sound of her moaning as she falls to pieces between me and the wall. And just as the last of her climax shudders through her, I grab her by the hair to tug her head back gently, bringing her gaze back to mine.

“Say it,” I order, but she’s still so overwhelmed with pleasure that she can’t get the words out. She stares at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Tell me what you were doing in the shower. I want to hear every detail of it.”

“I was touching myself,” she says quietly as she tries to catch her breath, and I gently tug at her hair to show her that I’m not playing around. I want the truth, and I’m going to get it out of her, even if I have to coax the words out of her.

“That’s what I thought. And you were thinking about me while you did it, weren’t you, ma jolie petite salope?” Her eyes widen at my use of the French words, almost like she knows what they mean. Or maybe she doesn’t and is just reading between the lines, but either way, I’m glad I have her attention. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was,” she finally admits, swallowing hard like she’s trying to steal the words back. There’s something about the conflict in her voice that only makes me want her more. She likes this dynamic between us, and I know she does, but she can’t bring herself to admit it. That’s okay. By the time I’m done with her tonight, she’ll never be able to deny it again.

Because I’m going to have her begging me to fuck her, just like I promised her I would.

I smile and nod at her. “Good girl. Was that so hard to admit?”

The only answer I get is her cheeks turning a gorgeous dusky shade, and the sight of it pulls a growl from deep in my chest. My hand moves to her throat, and she gasps in surprise as I hold it gently but firmly. I stare into her eyes burning with all the things she can’t—or won’t—say.

“Tell me what you want, Hannah.”

“You,” she breathes, and I smirk at her before I press a kiss on her forehead, my hand still cradling her throat.

“That’s no secret. And I want you too, but if you’re going to be my good girl, then I need you to tell me whatever is on your mind. Can you do that?” She swallows and nods eagerly. “Good. Now tell me what you were thinking about when my name left your lips in that shower.”