Just once.
And he groans—loudly.
“You can’t cum without my permission, can you?”
His hand shoots up to grab the headboard.
Fist tight.
Knuckles white.
But he doesn’t answer.
I rock again. Slower.
Slower.
His hips twitch. He wants to thrust.
To fuck.
To take it back.
But he doesn’t.
This is mine.
He gave me the match.
I lit the fire.
I drag my lips over his jaw. “Say it. Say you need to cum.”
His voice breaks. “Fuck—Raven?—”
I stop.
Still fully seated on his cock, walls fluttering around him, his tip throbbing so hard I can feel it in my spine.
“Say it.”
His breath punches out.
A growl. “I need to cum.”
“Who owns your pleasure?”
His eyes lock with mine. “You do.”
I press my palm flat against his chest. Feel his heart hammer and I utter the words he once whispered to me when I was broken and begging: “Not yet.”
His eyes widen when I say it.
“Not yet.”
And I watch it happen—that beautiful rupture.
The muscle in his jaw ticks. His abs tighten beneath my palms. His cock twitches inside me like it’s begging without words but he doesn’t move. He holds perfectly still beneath me.
