His mouth twitches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s struggling with the desire not to laugh. But then he rakes his eyes up and down my naked body, and the humor in his face is replaced by a dangerous cruelty that makes me shiver.
“Itdoescount. No more swearing at me, brat.”
Before I’ve had time to register a thing, he’s lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. I let out a surprised yelp, which he rewards with a stinging smack, before dropping me beside the bathtub.
“Open up.”
“Logan!”
“Open up, brat.”
Grumbling, I do as he says, but I can tell I don’t fool him. He glances down at my legs, squeezed together, and smirks.
Then he grabs a basket of new soap bars from under the sink, and my eyes widen.
“What the fuck? When the hell did you get all ofthose?”
“That’s two more swear words, brat.”
“Helldoesn’t count!” I huff.
“Pretty sure your daddy wouldn’t agree aboutthat. And I had to load up, because I had a feeling it would take a few lessons for the no cursing thing to stick.” Grabbing one of the soaps, he turns on the faucet and lathers it up. “Now, behave, brat, and open up.”
I open my mouth again, though at first, it’s only to let loose another volley of curses. But when he turns around and I spot the menacing glint in his eyes, the words melt off my tongue.
I shiver, part scared, fully turned on.
“Tongue out. Keep still.”
Face flaming, I obey, feeling an awful lot like I’m at thedoctor. That is, if the doctor were a sadist with a wet soap in his hand.
I forget all about keeping my mouth open when he brings the soap to my tongue and I taste the bitterness. Turning away, I spit into the bathroom.
Sighing, he fists my hair and pulls me back around.
“Let’s try that again, ghost girl. Behave, or it will be a thousand times worse. Now open your mouth.”
I don’t doubt him for a second, although I have no idea whatworseentails. And I kind of want to find out.
“No,” I say, keeping my lips firmly pressed together.
He chuckles, leaning against me, and I feel his cock swell against my stomach. It makes me even wetter to know that he’s just as turned on by my brattiness as I am.
“No? I’m going to make you regret that, brat.”
He brings a hand up to my cheeks, pinching them and forcing my mouth open. Then, before I can shut it again, he pushes the wet soap bar through my parted lips. I gag, struggling backward, but he wraps a firm arm around me and begins to pump the soap into my mouth, filling it with suds.
“Fffmmmph!” I cough out, trying and failing to get my breath, the soap bubbles choking me.
“That’s right, brat,” he rasps in my ear, “cry for me.”
I soon realize I’m doing just that, tears leaking from my eyes as I try to take the soap in my mouth. He’s just as vicious with it as he is when he fucks my mouth with his cock, each pump reaching the back of my throat.
By the time he pauses, I’m a spluttering mess, my face wet from my tears and the soap lather. It gets into my eyes, causing them to sting, and I realize I’m glad Logan took out my contacts before he started this punishment.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, licking and kissing away my tears. “That’s my very good girl. Bite, Lia.”
The praise makes me just as wet as the scolding did, just as wet, too, as the soaping—I never thought I would get turned on by being made to suck on such a disgusting, bitter thing, but here we are.