She pulls back, eyes wide as my words sink in. I’ve never yielded before—not to her, not to anyone. Her shock twists into equal parts hunger and hesitation, as if she doesn’t yet know how to hold the weight of this power.
“You mean it?” she asks.
I nod, keeping my expression neutral despite the riot of unfamiliar emotions surging through me. “Tonight, you decide what happens. What you want. How you want it.”
Sadie’s eyes light up with a spark that looks a lot like excitement. She shifts on my lap, her hands reaching between us with eager movements. I feel her fingers working at my belt, then my zipper, her movements clumsy in her haste.
“Careful,” I warn, but there’s no bite to it.
My cock springs free as she pulls down my pants just enough, and the relief is immediate. I’m rock hard, have been all Goddamn night.
She lifts herself slightly, positioning herself above me, and that’s when I notice—feel it actually—the slick heat of her directly against my skin. No barrier of fabric between us.
“No panties?” I raise an eyebrow as she rubs herself against my length. “Were you planning this all along, little butterfly?”
The wetness sliding along my cock is obscene, her slickness making the glide of her pussy frictionless and perfect. I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to thrust into her.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” I breathe out, watching her face as she works herself against me, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “All this from a kiss and some TV?”
Sadie bites her lower lip. “I’ve been like this all night,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sitting next to you,feeling your arm around me... I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” She rocks more purposefully, her clit sliding against the underside of my cock. “About you. Inside me.”
Even when I’m not actively trying to seduce her, she wants me—needs me even.
Sadie lifts herself up, positioning my cock at her entrance. Her eyes lock with mine, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face before determination takes over. Then she slams down, taking me to the hilt in one swift movement.
“Fuck,” she groans, her head falling back as she adjusts to the sudden fullness.
I fight to keep my hips still, as her hands move to her breasts, fingers finding her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. She pinches them, rolling them between her fingers as she starts to move.
Christ, she’s magnificent like this. Her body flushed with pleasure, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded as she rides me at her own pace. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.
I’ve never allowed this before. The thought of yielding, especially in bed, would have been unthinkable with anyone else—met with fury, with the instinct to dominate, to crush resistance.
But with Sadie, watching her take her pleasure from my body, setting her own rhythm, making her own choices—it’s intoxicating in ways I never anticipated.
She’s the only woman I’ve ever given this privilege to. The only one I’ve ever trusted enough, wanted enough, to let her have this power over me. And as she begins to find her rhythm, lifting herself almost completely off my cock before sliding back down, I wonder if I might become addicted to the sight of her usingmefor her own satisfaction.
“Fuck, little butterfly,” I growl. “Look at you taking what you want.”
My hands grip her hips to steady her as she rides me. The sensation of her tight cunt enveloping me is overwhelming. I’ve had countless women, but none have ever felt fundamental and necessary.
“You feel so fucking good,” I tell her. “So perfect around my cock.”
Her rhythm falters at my words, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine.
“The way you move...” I continue. “So fucking beautiful.”
A small gasp escapes her as I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit. I circle it gently, not pushing her toward climax but enhancing the pleasure she’s already creating for herself.
“That’s it,” I encourage as she picks up speed. “Take what you need from me.”
“Landon,” she breathes, and my name has never sounded so sacred.
Her inner walls flutter around me as she approaches her peak. My hips instinctively thrust up to meet her downward movements.
“I’ve never—” I start, then stop myself. I’ve never what? Given up control?
Instead of finishing the thought, I pull her down for a kiss that lacks the bruising force of our previous encounters. Her lips are soft against mine, yielding yet assertive. When she breaks the kiss to gasp for air, I whisper against her mouth.
