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I stand, scooping and rolling her up into my arms. I carry her back to the bedroom where I had the pleasure of guarding her this morning. I toss her in the center of the bed and pull my discarded bowtie from the pocket of my tuxedo pants. Her dark locks fall across her shoulders. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy from her spanking. Those full lips look so kissable. She scoots back on the bed like she means to run again. I can tell it’s just for play, by the mischievous twist to her lips. I tug both ends of the bow tie and make it snap. The moment she tries to bolt over the edge of the bed, I reach out and grab her ankle, dragging her back. “Where do you think you’re going, my pretty dove?”