Her gaze softens, just a little. “Good boy.”
She moves in front of me again, her hand pressing flat against my chest. My heart’s beating fast enough she can feel it. “You think you can give up control,” she says. “Let’s see if you mean it.”
Her voice wraps around me, and everything else fades: my mom, the pressure, the constant need to be perfect. All that’s left is her and the sound of my breathing. Every quiet command, every bit of praise, every second she lets me drift feels like air I didn’t know I needed.
When she finally eases closer, her fingers graze my jaw, tipping my head down until our eyes meet. “Look at me. Always look at me.”
I do. I can’t look anywhere else.
Then she shifts, moving lower, her breath skimming the edge of my stomach. Every muscle in my body tightens, waiting. She doesn’t touch; she doesn’t need to. The promise in her movements is enough to unravel me. Three open-mouthed kisses are placed along the length of my shaft through the boxers.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep quiet, but she notices anyway. “Still green?”
“Green,” I manage.
She smiles, that knowing curve of her lips that says she’s in control of every inch of this moment. “Perfect.”
The crop is still in her right hand, and she draws it back and snaps it on the side of my left thigh. I hiss but make no other sound, and she smiles before giving me another. At the same time, she blows cool air across the tip of my dick through the thin fabric.
It happens before I even realize it. My toes press into the floor, and my heart races as I come. My release stains the front of my boxers like a high schooler on prom night. I want to curse, to apologize, but I stay silent because she didn’t give me permission to speak.
She stands and smiles as she stares at me. “You did well, Talon.”
My voice comes out rough. “What about you?”
Her lips curve again, amusement flickering in her eyes. “My work is done,” she murmurs, stepping back. “But not my pleasure.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means, but she only smirks and presses a finger to my lips. “Stay quiet and watch.” I do.
Every nerve in my body listens.
She moves to the chaise at the foot of the bed; her whole posture changes, still confident, but softer, more relaxed. She shimmies the leather shorts off her body, and I practically drool as I catch sight of her tan mound.
Sinking into the seat of the chaise, she brings her legs up, planting both feet on the lounge and spreads them so I can get my first glimpse of her glistening wet lips.
I lick my lips and watch as she reaches beside her and grabs a little rose toy that I hadn’t noticed until now. She sets it on her clit and turns it on, the soft hum filling the room.
Mesmerized, I watch as she pleases herself. Soft gasps and sighs leave her lips as she teases her clit. Then her head drops back as her toes curl into the fabric of the chair and her chest heaves as she comes.
It’s over as quickly as it began. She exhales, steadying herself, and looks at me through half-lidded eyes.
“That’s enough for tonight.” Her tone is final, composed again, as she switches the rose off and tosses it onto the bed behind her.
Relief and disappointment hit me at the same time.
“Thank you,” she adds. “You listened. You let go. That’s harder than most people realize.”
I nod, still too dazed to find words.I want to sink inside her tight cunt, taste her on my tongue. What does she mean, that’s enough?
She steps back into her tiny leather shorts and wiggles them up her legs until she’s once again dressed…much to my dismay. Then she walks to the door and pauses, one hand on the handle.
“Remember this.” She doesn’t turn around. “Control isn’t about power. It’s about trust.”
And then she’s gone, leaving the faint scent of her perfume in the air. The door closes, and I don’t move, still catching my breath, staring at the empty space she left behind.
Wait. How am I going to get uncuffed from this cross? Shit! Fuck!
“Hello!” I call. “You forgot to free me.”
