I can’t hold it anymore either, so I whisper in her ear, “Come.”
She shatters, exploding on a long cry as I hold her. Her violent orgasm causes her to thrash in my arms. Gripping the edges of the piano with all her might, her chest heaves, her breath cascading out of her mouth in rapid inhale and exhale. It takes long minutes to come down from her high as I soothe her.
I kiss her temple, stroking down her back. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”
She blinks at me, needing a few attempts to regain focus.
I pepper her teary face with kisses and take her lips in a deep kiss. Her fingers latch onto my lapels, holding on to me with all her might as if I would ever let her go.
I smile against her mouth. “I’m not done with you. Will never be done with you, malishka.”
Gently placing her down, I say, “Undress me.”
Her delicate fingers unbutton one after the other, and she slips my shirt off. It drops to the floor like her inhibitions and my control.
“On your knees,” I demand.
She rushes to slide to her knees, her palms resting on my thighs. It does things to me that she waits for my instructions. I stroke along the side of her face to show how pleased I am with her.
“Now, unzip me.”
With trembling fingers, she frees me, pulling my pants and boxer briefs down in one go. I kick them away with my feet as she stares open-eyed at my cock. The purple head and steel length jut out, appearing like an impaling device.
My cock leaks pre-cum as if whimpering for her—so fucking eager to finally get inside her.
I knew it wouldn’t take her long before she would take the initiative. Curious to see what she will do first, I let her.
She wraps her lips around the head, looking at me with doe eyes that gleam with mischief.
Fisting my hand in her hair, I pull her back. “Such a greedy girl. Did I give you permission?”
Licking her lip, she shakes her head, and I move to the armchair. Sitting down, I spread my thighs.
I beckon her with two fingers. “Crawl to me.”
On her hands and knees, she comes to me, never breaking eye contact. In this moment, it’s abundantly clear that I might be the one in command, but she controls me.
“It fits,” she says as she lifts to her knees in front of me. “You on your throne, a king waiting for complete obedience… while all I want is to please you.”
“No one has pleased me more, pleasured me more. Only you,” I admit, overcome by the need to reassure her, so there’s no doubt in her mind.
There has been only Dahlia for me—the only one who owns my heart. My soul and body are loyal soldiers, serving their queen. I might be the King of the Underworld, but I am nothing more than a servant when it comes to her.
Tilting her head, she raises a brow, the grimace playful but also seductive. “How long will you let me drool before I can suck your cock?”
I swear my cock jerks. This woman with the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and the filthy mind of a slut.
I am both fucked and screwed.
Groaning, I lean back, my fingers digging into each side of the armchair. “Beg then.”
She looks me straight in the eye and says, “Please let me suck your cock. I want your cum.”
Fuck me. It’s a wonder I don’t come right here and now like a fumbling teenager.
“Do it,” I grit out, my control shaking to its foundation.
She smiles unabashedly, knowing she’s winning. My control is a sham.
