I forced myself still. Forced my hands to stay gentle where they'd tangled in her hair. This wasn't about taking—not yet. This was about letting her give. About watching her worship me with the same devotion I'd spent the last hour giving her.
She pulled back. Took me deeper. Found a rhythm that was sloppy and unpracticed and absolutely perfect because there was nothing performative about it. Just Auralia, overwhelmed and desperate and wanting to please.
Her hands found my thighs.
She gripped hard—fingernails digging into muscle, steadying herself as she worked me with her mouth. The position had her stretched out beneath me, the collar dark against her throat, her grey-green eyes locked on my face.
Watching me come apart.
"Fuck." The word punched out of me. My hand tightened in her hair—not pulling, just holding. "That's it. Just like that."
She moaned around me. The vibration sent a shockwave through my entire body.
Her eyes never left mine.
That was the thing that undid me. Not the wet heat of her mouth, not the desperate grip of her hands, not even the small sounds she made every time she took me deep. It was the eye contact. The absolute attention. The way she was watching my every reaction and adjusting, learning, trying to give me exactly what I needed.
"Good girl." My voice came out wrecked. Barely recognizable. "Such a good girl for Daddy."
She took me deeper in response. Gagged slightly, pulled back, tried again. Determined. Eager. Mine.
I was close.
The pressure building at the base of my spine, the particular tightening that meant I was going to lose control if I didn't—
I pulled back.
She made a sound of protest, her mouth following me, but I was already moving. Pulling away from the edge she'd pushed me toward, forcing my body to calm down through sheer willpower.
Her lips were swollen. Wet. Her eyes glazed with confusion and want.
"Daddy—"
"Shh." I cupped her face with one hand, thumb tracing her lower lip. "Not yet."
"But I want—"
"I know what you want." I pressed my thumb past her lips, felt her suck instinctively, and nearly lost control all over again. "And you're going to get it. But not in your mouth."
Understanding dawned.
Her whole body flushed—fresh color flooding from her chest to her cheeks, her eyes going wide, her breathing picking up again.
"I have other plans," I said quietly, "for how this ends."
She whimpered.
I withdrew my thumb. Leaned down and kissed her—tasting myself on her lips, salt and musk and something that was purely us. The kiss was deep and demanding and full of promise.
When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"Ready?" I asked.
Her answer was barely a whisper. But it was enough.
"Yes, Daddy. Please."
I positioned myself over her.
