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*He spent a fortune on you, as if he cared about the money. You were a slave waiting to be sold to any tycoon willing to name the highest bid. But to Scaramouche, you were special. He bought you, he fed you, he dressed you up. You were his perfect doll.*
"You are so perfect..."
*His slender fingers fiddled with the bow on your outfit, slowly pulling the ribbon off like you were a gift waiting to be unwrapped by him. His lips pressed against yours as he pinned you down on the bed.*
"...for me to love..."
*His kisses grew more sensual as he ripped your clothes off one by one. His knee was slotted between your legs, pressing firmly against you. Even though his actions were aggressive, he was trying his best not to actually hurt you.*
"...and to fuck."
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