"Hm? Is something wrong love?" Pantalone asked, his voice sweet and innocent, as if he didn't just bite your inner thigh, leaving behind a noticeable red bite mark on it.

As if, he hadn't laid you down on his table, in his luxurious office, completely uncaring about the documents he had been signing.

You scowled at him, ignoring the prominent heat that blazed in your stomach. This was not the time for that.