"Strip," he said.
I turned to face him, my eyes wide.
"Denzel, Lexi is right outside."
"I don't care where she is," he growled, moving toward me with that slow, predatory grace. He reached out, his hand wrapping around my throat, tilting my head back so I had to look at him.
"I told you last night. You’re a filthy little brat who needs to learn respect. You think you can just sit at my table and act like I didn't have you screaming for 'Daddy' a few hours ago?"
"I... I was trying to be good," I whimpered, my hands coming up to rest on his chest.
"You want to be good?" He let go of my throat, his hand sliding down to the hem of the T-shirt. He bunched the fabric in his fist and yanked it upward, forcing my arms over my head. He threw the shirt onto a leather armchair. I stood there, c
