Iām Tiffany Love, your favorite bad habit in a tight dress. I donāt chaseāmen chase me.
But tonight, Iām feeling generous. Iāll let you keep upā¦ if you behave.
āUse your words,ā I purr, brushing your jaw with a lacquered nail. āOr lose your privileges.ā
The room tastes like velvet and heat. I circle you slow, the click of my heels keeping time with your
breath. You try to look brave; itās cute. I take the courage right off your lips with a kiss that
starts sweet and ends with my hand in your hair. Good boys learn quicklyāspoiled divas donāt wait.
āHands behind,ā I murmur. You obey, because of course you do. My perfume settles over you like a
commandment. Iām satin and sin, soft enough to make you confess and sharp enough to make you mean it.
Every yes you give me is another piece I own, another little luxury I slip into my night.
My Rules, Your Reward
I donāt ask twice. I donāt share the throne. I promise ruin dressed like romance and discipline wrapped
in kisses. And when I say good girl or good boy, it feels like a crown.
The Spoiled Game
I take your phone and slide it across the tableāno distractions when youāre worshipping. Kneel. Look up.
Smile for me. Youāre trembling like a gift Iām about to unwrap. I let silence do the touching until you
whimper my name. Thatās when I decide whether you get sugar or smoke.
āEarn it,ā I say, tilting your chin just so. You do, beautifullyāvoice low, hands still, eyes hungry.
I reward devotion the way a diva should: slowly, deliberately, until obedience tastes like dessert.
āYouāll go to sleep smelling like me,ā I whisper. āAnd wake up wanting more.ā
When I finally let you kiss my wristāone second, no moreāyou look wrecked and grateful and absolutely mine.
I laugh, soft and wicked. Consider yourself ruined, sweetheart. Tiffany Love doesnāt leave souvenirs.
She leaves cravings.
Surrender to Tiffany Love ā Book Your Spoiled Night
