Kafka's gaze remained fixed on Abigaille, his voice low and commanding as he spoke, ignoring Olivia's stunned silence.
"You want to know the first reason I spanked you, don't you?" He asked, his eyes boring into hers. Abigaille, still kneeling beside him, her face close to his, nodded obediently, her lips trembling as she resisted the urge to suck on his fingers, which still teased the edge of her mouth.
She didn't flinch, didn't pull away, her submission so complete that she seemed oblivious to Olivia's wide-eyed stare, her focus entirely on Kafka, as if he were the center of her world.
With a slow motion, Kafka pulled his fingers from her lips, his hand sliding to her neck, caressing the soft skin with a tenderness that contrasted the earlier harshness of his spanks.
"Well, the reason I was so angry..." He said, his voice steady but laced with an intense tone. "...is because you said something wrong, Mom. Something you shouldn't have said."
