I have to obey if I want him to please me.
"I need—" The words stick in my throat, tangled up with old shame and repressed want. "I need you to?—"
For whatever reason, I can't finish the sentence. Maybe it's because it's been so long and I'm rusty as hell.
It doesn't matter, though, because Henri's eyes darken in the most delicious way. "You want to be my good girl? You want me to tell you how perfect you are while I make you feel it?"
A broken sound slips out of me—half whimper, half plea. All I can manage is a nod. Wretched and demanding and exactly who I used to be.
"You need to ask properly. Tell me what you want."
His patience is unbearable. The steadiness of his hands. The way he waits like he has all the time in the world while I'm falling apart.
"I—" My voice splinters. "I need you to tell me I'm good. Please. I need to hear it while you touch me. While you?—"
His thumb brushes my clit once, and I arch off the wall, gasping.
"Shh. Breathe." He kisses my temple, soft and devastating. "You're already doing so well. Look at you—open for me, soaking my fingers, asking so sweetly."
His free hand slides up my body until his fingers wrap around my throat. A claim without words.
"Is this okay?"
I nod frantically, heat flooding through me at the contact.
"Words, baby."
"Yes. Please, I need you."
"Good girl."
The praise liquefies something in my spine. My hips rock against his hand, desperate, shameless, and he lets me chase it for exactly one heartbeat before pulling back. His fingers hover just out of reach.
A broken whine slips out of me.
"Not yet." His grip on my neck tightens just a fraction, a reminder of who's in control. "You don't come until I say. You come because I tell you you're perfect. Because you earned it."
Tears prick my eyes.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes. Yes, I understand—just please?—"
"One more thing." His lips brush the shell of my ear, voice dropping to something molten. "When you come, I want to hear my name. Not his. Not anyone else's.Mine."
I'm pretty sure I'm melting now.
"Can you do that for me?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes…please."
His thumb circles my clit again, deliberately ruinous. "That's my perfect girl."
He slides two fingers inside me, curling slow, pressing that spot that makes stars burst across my vision. I clench around him, closing my eyes as my bodybegs. Hepumps once, twice, then stills again, thumb circling my clit in lazy, maddening strokes.
