"When you want me to stop, you press it. Understand?"
I look down curiously and nod.
"No, Elena. I need to know you understand," he says patiently.
"I understand."
"Good," he says. "Loop it around your wrist."
I put my hand through the coiled band and hold the clicker.
"Hands behind your back," he commands.
I obey, clasping my wrists at the small of my back, the clicker held tightly between them, and I hear him exhale as I face him.
"Open," he says, his voice low and demanding.
A tremor moves through me, and I part my lips, open wide.
He moves forward, slides his hand into my hair, and guides himself inside, the head of his cock resting on my tongue.
He's bigger than I remember.
He tightens his fist in my hair and drags a breath between his teeth.
"I've been thinking of this for weeks. Wondering how much you could take. How far I can push you."
I answer with a soft moan.
"I've dreamed of taking your mouth," he continues, holding absolutely still. "Filling your throat."
I make a helpless sound and lean forward, trying to take more, and the movement makes him tighten his hand in my hair.
"Look at me," he orders, and when I do, I feel the power move from him to me.
"Do you like this, Elena?"
"Mmm," I answer, the sound vibrating around the head of his cock.
He flexes his hips, and the head of his cock pushes farther.
"More," I murmur, and try to lean forward again.
He holds me still. "Patience."
I look up at him, feeling the ache in my scalp, the way my knees are digging into the rug, the stretch of my jaw. I look up and find his eyes, and there's a wildness in him, a need, something dangerous.
"You can have more," he says, his voice hoarse. "But you must be patient."
I stay absolutely still.
"Good girl."
Slowly, his fist still tangled in my hair, he feeds his cock into my mouth.
"Breathe through your nose."
I do, and the air comes back warm and musky, and the smell goes right to my head.
