Voluptuously Yours,

Corrupting Yours Truly

Dawn chewed on her lip, as she mulled it over. Even after everything, this is where she lands.

Uncomfortably saddled up against the wall. Except she is backed into it by Richard.

Although, she was close to getting in the good books of Giovani and if she chose to stop now, her one chance at becoming what she wanted would be missed.

At any cost, she can't let that happen.

Despite what she says about her mother, the urge to show Gloria what she can do and become had spurred her on. Proving her wrong would be the sweetest revenge ever.

Plopping her lips out from her teeth, she agreed. "Alright, then."

Richard's chortle was sarcastic. "You sure took your time."

"Well, when it comes to selling your soul to the devil. I tend to think things through."

"The fact that you think I'm a devil is one of the highest compliments I ever received from you."

That bristled her wrongly. "I have never flattered you! And devil isn't a compliment."

"It sure is. Besides, every moan you let out when I make you come is an accolade to me."

Dawn gulped, when Richard continues to rake a new batch of hay straws as he muttered with finesse. "Every cry is my acclamation."

The fact he carelessly went on about his duty and spoke the tarnished truth in a heedless manner rankled her.

He thought of himself like some bloody hero in the eyes of people and he wasn't. Dawn knew this but the way he made it out. By the sheer force of his conviction, makes her believe that he is.

"Every moisture dripping out of that insatiable pussy of yours is my title."

She gurgled at his choice of words. The man knew the rights words and even knew when to deliver them.

"So yes, you have complimented me but that there is the best one."

"I called you a devil, not a god! It's an insult like any other."

"That's where you are wrong. Like Milton said, better to reign in hell than serve in heaven."

Enough! To think he had even an ounce of humbleness in him was a nugatory and fruitless thought. "Someone surely skipped his humble pie."

He woofed a snigger, "Please, I don't spoil my appetite with ordinary pies. I like mine with raisins of confidence, wholeness of rich love for one's self and of course, the whipped cream of grandeur."

She wanted to take the rake out of his hand and whip him with it for his scalding words. Who even talks like that? "Or maybe...that's the recipe to narcissistic personality disorder."

"Ahh..you see that's again where you are wrong. I have no delusions."

"Clearly. Your sense of entitlement and exploiting others without any guilt doesn't ring with narcissism."

"See? Now you are getting it."

"I shouldn't have spoken about the pie comment." She grumbled under her breath.

Then with a snide glance back at Dawn, he said, "Unless we are talking about a different pie..."

He deliberately looked down, between her legs and the compulsion to cross them even when her legs were pressed together while she stood conveyed the power of his hold on her.

It irked her in a crotchety manner.

Dawn immediately raced to end the subject at hand. "Okay! Let's begin. Are all your tattoos linked to your personal life?"