“Please,” I moan. Shocks of electricity are pulsing through my core, and I’m desperate for him to bring his hands lower, to give me what I want.
"On the table." The words slice through the haze, a low growl in his chest, and I comply. "Spread your legs wider."
My knees fall open until cool air hits my slick folds. Exposed. Vulnerable. His gaze rakes over me, heavy and approving, enjoying every quiver.
"Beautiful." He traces one finger along my inner thigh, up to where I'm aching. Circles the entrance but doesn't enter. "I love how you drip for me. Like your body knows it belongs here, spread out and waiting."
Heat floods my cheeks, but I arch into his touch. "Please, Asher."
"Sir," he corrects, pinching my thigh hard enough to sting.
"Sir, please!” I whine.
His chuckle vibrates against my skin as he leans in, breath hot on my core. "I will. But first, tell me what you want. Use your words."
"I want... your mouth." The admission burns, but need overrides shame. "On me. Please, Sir."
He grabs my hips, yanking me roughly to the edge of the table.
And then slowly, so very slowly, he begins kissing me, starting at my knees and trailing up my thighs. I’m trembling, waiting for him to reach my sex.
He rewards me with a single, flat lick along my seam. I jolt, fingers gripping the edge of the wooden surface. He pins my hips again, tongue delving deeper, lapping at my entrance before flicking my clit. Sharp pleasure sparks, building fast.
"Yes," I moan, head falling back.
He pulls away too soon. "You taste even sweeter now. Soaked and ready." His fingers join in, one sliding inside me, curling against that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. "Imagine this, Sugar. Me tying your wrists above your head. Your legs bound so wide you can't close them. I edge you for hours, stopping every time you get close. Until you're begging, tears in your eyes, just to come."
My walls clench around his finger.
"Would you like that? Being tied down, at my mercy?"
I picture it—the ropes biting my skin, his weight holding me still as he takes what he wants. Fear twists with want, but the heat between my legs wins.
He chuckles. "I don't even need you to answer. I can tell from the way you're pulsing around my finger."
I moan, and he adds a second finger, filling me up.
"Good girl. And what about my hand on your ass? Red from spanking until you promise to obey every order?" His thrusts quicken, thumb pressing my clit.
Another spark. My breath hitches. "Yes, Sir. I want that."
Pride flashes in his eyes. "My dirty little girl." He dives back in, tongue swirling as fingers pump. "Come for me."
The pressure builds, coiling tight. I shatter, crying out, thighs trembling against his hold.
He doesn't stop, licking through the aftershocks until I'm boneless. Rising, he wipes his mouth, eyes darkened. "I want to feel those pretty lips around my cock. Would you like that, Sugar?"
I nod frantically. "Yes. Please, Sir."
“Take out my cock then.”
I slide off the table, legs shaky, and reach for his belt. Fingers fumble with the buckle, finally pulling it free. Zipper next. I tug his pants and boxer briefs down, and?—
Oh.
He's huge. Thick and long, already hard. My mouth goes dry, even as heat pools lower.
"You look nervous." His hand cups my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek. "Don't be. You're going to do beautifully."
