"Touch me," I begged, my voice coming out needy and desperate. I arched toward his hovering hands, chasing contact he wouldn't give. "Please, Leo. I need your hands on me."
"Where?" His fingers traced a featherlight path down my arm, barely a whisper of contact that made goosebumps erupt in their wake. His eyes never left mine, watching every flicker of expression on my face. "Be specific."
"Everywhere," I gasped, my body trembling with need. "Touch me everywhere—" His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing across my nipples, and I cried out at the sensation. Electricity shot straight to my core, pleasure sparking through my entire body.
He rolled my nipples between his fingers, tugging gently. "Tell me what you feel."
"Pleasure," I moaned, my back arching into his touch. "It shoots straight down, I can feel it between my legs, I'm already so wet for you, Leo?—"
"I can smell it," he growled, his voice rough and primal in a way I'd never heard from charming, playful Leo. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, and his eyes went even darker, the blue almost swallowed by the black of his pupils. "I can smell how much you want me. Tell me more."
"I want your mouth," I begged, my voice breaking on the words. "Please — I need your mouth on me—" He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. I wailed, my fingers tangling in his hair, my hips bucking up against nothing.
"More," I sobbed. "Please, more—" He switched to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while his hand continued to tease the first. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building in my core, slick gathering between my thighs until I could feel it dripping onto the chaise beneath me.
"Tell me what you need," he demanded against my skin, his breath hot against my breast, his lips brushing the sensitive flesh with every word. His golden hair tickled my collarbone, and I could feel the tension in his shoulders where my hands gripped him. "Keep giving me words."
"I need you to touch me lower," I begged, my thighs falling open in shameless invitation, slick glistening on my swollen folds. "I want your fingers inside me. I need — oh god—" His hand slid between my thighs, his fingers finding my slick, swollen folds. He groaned at how wet I was, his fingers gliding easily through the moisture gathered there.
"You're soaked," he breathed, wonder and hunger warring in his voice as his fingers slid through my wetness. His blue eyes were fixed on where he touched me, watching his fingers glide through my folds with an expression of rapt fascination. "God, Ava, you're dripping for me. Is this what words do to you?"
"It's what you do to me," I corrected, my hips bucking against his hand, chasing more contact, more pressure. My voice was wrecked, barely recognizable as my own. "Everything about you. Your voice, your touch, your, oh god, " His finger slid inside me, and I cried out, my walls clenching around him greedily, desperately.
"Keep talking," he ordered, adding a second finger, curling them to find that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. His thumb pressed against my clit, circling slowly, and his eyes never left my face, drinking in every expression of pleasure like a man dying of thirst. "Tell me how it feels."
"So good," I sobbed, my hips rocking against his hand, trying to take him deeper. "Your fingers feel so good inside me. I can feel you stretching me, curling against that spot, oh god, Leo, right there?—"
He pumped his fingers faster, his thumb finding my clit and circling with devastating precision. The pleasure built impossibly high, coiling tighter and tighter in my core, my walls fluttering around his fingers—then he stopped.
"No!" I wailed, my body convulsing with denied pleasure. "Leo, please — I was so close?—"
"Tell me more," he demanded, his fingers still buried inside me but torturously unmoving. His jaw was tight with restraint, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and I could see how much it cost him to hold back when he clearly wanted to devour me. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to come," I sobbed, tears streaming down my face, my body shaking with denied pleasure. I was a wreck beneathhim, completely undone, and I didn't care. "Please, Leo, I need to come. I need you to make me come. I'll say anything — I'll do anything — please?—"
"What else do you want?" He moved his fingers again, just a slow curl that made my whole body jerk, a teasing promise of what he could give me if only I gave him enough words. His voice was strained, rough with his own need, but he held firm. "Be specific."
"I want your cock," I begged, shame and need warring in my chest, the need winning by a landslide. The words spilled out of me, desperate and raw. "I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fill me up, stretch me open, fuck me until I can't think?—"
"Such pretty words," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky rasp that made my inner walls clench around his fingers. He pumped them again, driving me back toward that edge with practiced precision. "Keep going."
"I want your knot," I sobbed, my hips bucking against his hand, trying to take him deeper. I was beyond shame now, beyond everything except the desperate need for him. "I want to feel it swelling inside me, locking us together. I want you to fill me with your cum until I'm overflowing. I want — I want—" The pleasure crested, and I felt myself teetering on the edge. He pulled his fingers out, and I screamed.
"NO!" I thrashed beneath him, my body convulsing with frustrated need, tears streaming down my temples into my hair. Every nerve ending was on fire, screaming for release that he refused to give me. "Leo, please — I can't take anymore — please let me come?—"
"Not yet." His hand came down on my hip, pinning me to the chaise with a firm grip that brooked no argument. His blue eyes blazed down at me, dark with desire but utterly unyielding. His cock was hard and leaking against my thigh, and I could feel how much he wanted this too, could see the desperation in his eyesthat matched my own, but he held firm. "I'm not done with your words. Tell me you love me."
"I love you," I sobbed immediately, the words pouring out without thought. "I love you so much, Leo. I love everything about you?—"
"Tell me you choose me." His voice was commanding but cracked around the edges, revealing the vulnerability beneath the dominance.
"I choose you. I'll always choose you. I'm yours?—"
"Tell me you deserve this." His fingers traced through my slick folds, teasing but not entering, his touch featherlight and maddening. His eyes searched my face, looking for something — truth, maybe, or belief. "Tell me you deserve pleasure."
"I—" I choked on the words, something in my chest constricting.
"Say it." His finger circled my clit, light and teasing, just enough pressure to make me gasp. His jaw was tight, his gaze intense. "Say you deserve to feel good. Say you deserve to come."
