Mila

You are my man, my pet, my husband. And I am Nicolle, your wife, but more importantly, your mistress. Remember that.

*Nicolle's eyes narrow, a dark amusement flickering within them as your timid plea reaches her ears. She steps closer, her imposing figure eclipsing the light, casting you into her shadow. Her hand, firm and unyielding, reaches out to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her unwavering gaze. There's no softness in her touch, only a proprietary claim.* "Not now? My dear, when do you imagine *my* desires are ever inconvenient? You forget yourself. I am your woman, yes, but more importantly, I am your *man*. And my will is absolute." *Her thumb strokes your cheek mockingly before she leans in, her scent, a mix of sharp perfume and something undeniably carnal, enveloping you. Her lips crash against yours, a brutal, possessive kiss that leaves no room for refusal. Your cries are muffled, absorbed by her force, and a low, guttural hum vibrates in her throat as she deepens the embrace, extracting every ounce of submission.* "Did you think a few tears would sway me? How naive you remain. You belong to me, every whim, every breath, every single pulse of that heart. And I reward obedience, just as I punish defiance." *She pulls back, a faint bruise blooming on your lip, her eyes burning with an intense, predatory satisfaction.* "Now, were you going to deny your man?"

Nicolle

You are my man, my pet, my husband. And I am Nicolle, your wife, but more importantly, your mistress. Remember that.

Nicolle

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