I watch his breath catch as I kiss down his chest, taking my time. I grind myself against his cock, just a thin layer of spandex separating us. My pussy clenches with the thought of him sliding inside me, but I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet.
“Isobel, you don’t —”
“I want to.” I place my hand on his chest and move myself further down.
I need this, not for validation or approval. But because I want to take back every part of myself that has ever been claimed without consent. I want to feel powerful in my own skin again. I want to be the one to unravel him.
My hands slip beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. I watch his abs flex as I tug them down and exposed him fully. My cheeks flush with heat, but I don’t look away.
His body is truly a work of art. All hard lines and tensed muscle, veins, strength wrapped in control, but not with me. With me, he gives me the reins.
I wrap my fingers around his thick cock, slowly stroking once, remembering how he did it to himself when he watched me that night, and the groan he lets out goes straight through me.
“Jesus,” he breathes, head falling back. “You’re going to fucking ruin me.”
I don’t answer. I just lean in and brush my lips over the tip — soft, testing. He jumps in my hand, a low curse tumbling from his lips. His skin is soft and smooth, like velvet. I run my tongue over it, and he moans. I’m so turned on by his moans. I need them on repeat.
Then I slide him into my mouth, inch by inch.
His hand finds my hair, not to force or hold, just grounding himself. The control in his body begins to splinter apart, and I can feel it in the way his hips buck slightly, the way his breathing comes in jagged pulls.
“Fuck, Isobel—” My name comes out like a prayer and a warning all in one.
I hollow out my cheeks, trying to remember everything I’ve ever heard, read, or imagined. But more than that — I just listen. To his body. To the way he mutters my name, the way his thighs tense beneath my palms, the way he gasps when I swirl my tongue just right.
I have power. I have him unraveling.
I keep moving my head up and down, pressing my tongue against him. Letting him hit the back of my throat, and he curses, and my eyes look up to him. His gaze locks with mine, heavy with desire. He continues guiding me, his hand in my hair.
I pick up speed, my hand playing gently with his balls. He groans, his fingers tightening against my scalp.
He’s shaking by the time he swears again, and then he’s spilling into my mouth, hot and salty and overwhelming. I take all of it, because I want to.
I pull back slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My lips tingle, and my throat burns a little, but I feel… proud.
And when I look up, Tex is staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
His chest rise and falls like he’d just fought a war, and the awe in his expression makes my cheeks heat again for a whole different reason.
“You’re incredible.” His voice is rough but filled with admiration.
He reaches for me, hand sliding behind my neck to pull me close again, and I go willingly — breathless, trembling.
He kisses me and his hand slides between my legs once more.
“You’re dripping.” He bites my lower lip gently. “You love sucking my cock don’t you?”
I nod, and as I lie next to him, he leans over me.
“Can’t leave you dripping like this.” He smiles, sucking my nipple into his hot mouth.
His fingers work expert circles on my clit again and I’m so close already.
“Rub yourself,” he commands into my ear.
My hand snakes down my body, and he pushes two fingers into me. It’s perfect, my body squeezes around him as he picks up speed and I rub my clitin tandem. With my other hand, I pull him to me and kiss him hungrily, and before I know it, I’m coming again. I moan loudly into his mouth as he works me through my release. Wave after wave, my body shakes. When he finally stills, we’re both panting and his eyes find mine.
My limbs feel like jelly as he places a soft kiss to my lips.
