Big thanks to my pre-reading, leading ladies! *mwah!*

Edward

Fucking hell, fucking damnit. Little bitch's got spunk. Little princess has got a backbone and a temper.

She's fucking perfect… if only she were a submissive, I'd collar her in a heartbeat.

Her snarls and the prowling over me; the strength to her voice and the way her eyes narrow and smolder when she tells me what a dick I am makes me even harder than I already am. I'm desperate for more, for her, that my plan to act like the switch I'll never be completely backfires on me.

I've kissed her. I felt her up, her wet pussy so inviting when I shoved my hand down her skintight pants.

Hell, I even ripped the damn things. And I bet she's going to make me pay for that later.

Fuck, the thought of it makes me feel excited. It makes my cock throb. She makes my cock throb. She kissed me back, too, the last time.

She hands the guy at the door a bill that she retrieves out of her cleavage, and I smirk at the way Mr. Room Service stammers a 'thank you' before he's sent off back to his corner of the hotel.

As soon as the door closes, and the glass bottle clunks against the crystal tumblers she's carrying, I'm on her like she's my flame and I'm the dirty moth that can't seem to leave her be. I'm never like this, never been like this. It makes me feel ashamed of my behavior, but something about her—about Havoc—makes me want to wreak havoc all over her perfect, tight body. I want to make her cry out for more. For me. For my domination over her. I want people to start knocking on the door of this suite and be worried when they hear her scream, when they hear me scream, when I come all over her face, her tits, and her pretty pussy. I'd fucking coat her entire body with my cum. Mark her.

My vision goes blurry when she bends slightly to put the bottle and glassware on the coffee table. No undies. None, not a scrap of lace covering her bare, glistening pussy. I groan when she stands up straight again, the goods hidden away from my view. As if she feels my eyes on her, her head whips around, dark tresses dancing around her shoulders as she gives me the bitch brow.

"I'm sorry about your pants," I say. There's an edge to my voice that I can't recognize. It's close to the timbre it gets when I'm in complete Dom space, when I'm so submerged in pleasure that it makes it hard to function out of the playroom. It feels similar, yet so different. Havoc has got my brain all up in shambles, my cock confused by her demeanor and assertiveness.

"Havoc," I say to get her attention. It seems like she's ignoring me, but she's looking me dead in the eye. Bitch doesn't even blink her brown doe eyes at my words. It's like she doesn't even care about my apology.

I circle around her, waiting for the second she'll pounce at me and throw me down again. It's like she can only take me when I'm smaller than her, below her, less than her. But she doesn't move. Instead, she licks her dark lips before her teeth sink into her full, bottom one.

"Tell me what I can do to make it better, Mistress?" My voice is sweet, and I palm her cheek. She feels hot to the touch, eyes fluttering to mine, to my lips, to the boner that's almost breaking through thick denim. Somehow, her mask falls and her posture changes. It's like Isabella is leaning into my touch like a little kitten, almost purring for more. My finger slides down her cheek, thumb caressing her soft, plump lips before dipping lower. I groan when my fingers meet the soft swell of her tits, perky and high in her tight top.

She lets out a shaky breath, her head dropping until her chin almost rests onto her chest. Dark hair falls down like a curtain of black silk, until I tilt her head back up with my finger, whispering against her full mouth.

"Tell me, princess."

"I— I want…" she croaks, inching closer, tip of her tongue tracing the outline of my lips.

"Yes?"

She blinks rapidly and casts her eyes down. I get the flutters when she looks up again from under her lashes—the good kind of flutters that tell me I'm gonna have a great session with a new sub. Havoc looks perfect like this, back straight, fingers laced together as her arms hang limp by her sides.

I'm so close to tearing her walls down, I can almost taste her submission.