"Because I'm already fucking you, and frankly, it's boring."
I don't back down even though his words make me want to.
"Then, tell me what you want," I say.
He laughs. Sharp, humorless. "What I want?"
"Yes. Let me prove myself. Give me a task, and I'll show you how serious I can be."
"You want me to test you." He's moving toward me now, predatory. "Prove you're not just a bored housewife looking for excitement?"
"Yes."
He stops in front of me. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
"Alright. You want to prove you're serious? That you can be useful?"
"Yes."
"Then get on your knees."
My breath catches. "What?"
"You heard me. Get on your knees and suck my cock. Show me you're willing to do what it takes to make this partnership work."
This is a power play. A test of whether I'll balk when things get crude. He wants to see how far I'll go.
Too bad for him, I don't back down from a challenge.
I sink to my knees without hesitation. I'd already told myself I'd do anything. And this isn't even the worst thing my mind conjured up.
"Well," he says softly, his eyes wide. He didn't think I'd be willing. "This is…delightful."
I roll my eyes and unbuckle his belt. My heart is pounding, but I don't let it show. I unzip his pants, pull them down enough to free him.
He's already half-hard. I take him in my hand, working him until he's fully erect. Then I lean forward and take him in my mouth.
"Fuck," he groans, his hand sliding into my hair.
I work my tongue over him as I suck, trying to remember everything I've ever read or seen. My jaw aches almost immediately—he's too big, and I'm out of practice. My throatprotests when I try to take him deeper, and I have to pull back slightly, finding a rhythm that doesn't make me gag.
But I don't stop.
His breathing changes. Gets heavier. His hand in my hair tightens, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. I'm doing this. I'm affecting him.
"Gemma—" His voice has lost some of its coldness. "Shit."
I find a rhythm that works, one hand working what I can't take, the other braced against his thigh. His breathing gets rougher, and I can feel him swelling in my mouth.
"Fuck," he mutters. "Okay. Okay, you've made your point?—"
I don't stop. I want to finish this. Want to prove that while I may be the one on my knees, he’s at my mercy.
His hand tightens in my hair. "Gemma, I'm going to?—"
I hollow my cheeks, take him as deep as I can manage, and he comes with a choked groan.
I swallow, the taste of him salt and bitter on my tongue. When I finally pull back, a drop of him catches on my lip.
