“Are you wearing my favourite pair?” I whispered, biting the shell of her ear. “You look devastating in black lace.”
My favourite view was of my bound in my colour. Lace along her hips and breasts, like a gift being presented to me, awaiting my favourite form of destruction. There was so much satisfaction in ripping away the delicate threads of her underwear and savagely claiming her as mine.
She relaxed back against my chest as I bunched the shirt around her hips and a hand dipped to the apex of her legs, expecting to be met with material. Instead, I found the warmth of her bare pussy. Dropping my head against the nape of her neck, I hummed my approval. My tongue dragged along the smooth skin, and she whimpered. My fingers left her pussy, licking them before returning them to their previous position. She jerked slightly, but the work had truly been abandoned.
“Were you expecting me?” I questioned.
“You always get your way,” she breathed as my other hand slid up the shirt to play with her nipple. It had already hardened in anticipation. Glorious was the only way to describe the way her body reacted to mine.
My thumb brushed against her clit, pressing down and circling the bundle of nerves. “And this is all about me, isn’t it?”
Her head dropped back against my chest. For someone so wilful, my girl gave up so easily when I put my hands on her.
She hummed in response.
“Let's get you out of this.” I took my hands off her and tugged the shirt over her head, leaving her naked in front of me. “Much better.”
“I’m meant to be working,” she argued weakly.
“Mandatory masturbatory break.”
“With a helpful aid.”
Her laughter turned into a moan when I pinched her nipple, rolling it between my thumb and index finger. She arched her back, letting her hands drop between her legs.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned her, but let my aura out to move them away. Two black tendrils pinned her hands to the bed. “You’re my toy, Quentin. I get to play with you how I want, when I want.”
“Please don’t tease,” she whined.
I kissed along the back of her shoulders as she shifted on the bed, trying to get some sort of relief.
“But if I don’t tease you, I don’t get to hear that delicious sound you make,” I explained.
My fingers ghosted along her inner thighs, barely grazing her pussy as they moved upwards.
“Gray, please,” she begged.
“You really are impatient this morning. See how all work and no play makes Quentin a frustrated girl?”
She nodded her head obediently.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t keep you waiting like you do me.”
“I always give in,” she answered quickly.
She did. There wasn’t a single morning or night where Quentin didn’t wrap herself around my body, screaming my name to Elysia. She gave me everything until she was spent and still allowed me to use her, trying to keep up with my pace and needs.
“I’ll need more than that, golden girl,” I said, moving my hand away from her breast so it could wrap around her throat. I felt her pulse thundering under my fingertips, reminding me she was alive and well in my care.
“What do you want?”
My fingers dragged along her clit, and she whimpered. I played that sound on repeat in silent moments and drove myself mad. The pure dependency her body had on me to help reach her high. The unadulterated need that such a small sound conveyed.
“I want you to tell me I’ll be your priority when this project is officially closed,” I said. “You’ll take time off and we’ll travel the world together. You have been testing me and I am not patient.”
“I promise,” she whispered.
I let a finger dip lower through her wet folds and push inside her. A satisfactory moan escaped her.
