A firm assertion.

You reach down deliberately and slowly put a hand on George’s neck. You squeeze just a little, and she starts awake.

“Quiet,” you command, voice flat. She freezes at that, dark eyes wide and staring up at you. You can see her skin prickle from a combination of fear and arousal, her legs shifting nervously. “Good. Don’t want you to start screaming yet.”

“That a threat or a promise?” she snaps back, albeit quietly. While her face is mostly defiant, you can see the hint of a smile at the edge of her lips.

“Both.” You accompany your answer by sliding your free hand down her stomach, easily passing the line of her underwear, and tugging a sharp gasp from her when your fingers make contact with her absolutely soaking pussy. “You getting horny from this? Some psycho breaking into your house and pinning you down by your neck?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to!” she groans as your fingers tease her slit. You pull them back, and she lets out a low whine.

“What have I done, at all, to give you the impression you’re in charge here?” you counter to remind her. “Now. You little, teasing whore. Does it get you wet to have someone break into your house and wrap their hands around your slender, fragile neck, knowing you can’t do anything about it?” You squeeze a little harder at her neck to punctuate your sentence, then lean off it to make sure she can speak.