Savannah's POV
The moment our first round concluded, Dennis practically shoved me back into the chair with an eagerness that sent warning bells through my system.
His excitement felt ominous. Terror crept up my spine, though I remained confident he stood no chance against me. If mere suggestive words had rattled him that badly, the next round would seal his defeat completely.
After all, I had zero intention of making contact with him. Despite our bodies sharing this cursed bond, my mind stayed crystal clear - this man disgusted me to my core.
He activated the timer and settled into his seat, sliding that infuriating mask back over his features. I rolled my eyes at his theatrical display, but he simply wore that mocking smirk. His full lips curved with cruel amusement as he reclined, shifting his hips several inches from my knees. I tensed, expecting another strike from that paddle, but instead he started working at his belt buckle.
"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered.
