“Hm?”
“Please,” she says in a barely-there whisper.
I lean in, lips brushing hers without kissing. “Pleasewhat, baby?”
Her eyes lock on mine, glossy with hunger. “Please touch me, Sir,” she begs.
“I am touching you,” I say as I trail kisses down her body, slow and punishing, until I reach just below her navel. The heat radiating from between her thighs is almost unbearable. Her hips lift, seeking relief, but I deny her, moving back up with a devil’s grin.
She groans, a needy, broken sound. “Why are you doing this?” she huffs, her pout barely hiding how badly she wants to snap.
I hover above her, smirking down like I’ve already won.
“Would you rather I stop?” I murmur, my lips grazing the curve of her neck.
“No!” she gasps, her panic unmistakable, and Irevelin it.
But before I can stop her, that delicate little hand of hers slips between us, daring to steal what she hasn’t earned.
The smirk vanishes from my face. In its place, a warning.
I grab her wrist, pinning it above her head with a grip she won’t break. “Touch yourself again,” I growl, “and I’ll make sure you don’tseemy dick for months.”
It’s a bluff. Of course, it’s a bluff. I haven’t had her in over two months, and it damn near broke me. I couldn’t survive that again, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She freezes under me, eyes wide, searching mine for a crack in the threat. A flicker of doubt dances across her face.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Fuck around and find out,” I snap, leaning in so close our noses touch. She can feel my breath, feel the heat in every word.
Her bravado crumbles, replaced with need. “Why are you doing this? Please, Ineedyou,” she groans, voice breaking. “You haven’t fucked me in months.”
She’s right. The last time we fucked was at the masquerade ball. And though I’ve needed her just as badly, this isn’t about indulgence. It’s about discipline.
I don’t respond. Instead, I slide my fingers between her thighs. She’s soaked. Just one light stroke has her gasping, her hips bucking for more.
I tease her clit in slow, careful circles, dragging out the moan she tries to swallow. Her body arches, but I pull away before she can chase the high.
“Stay still,” I command, voice sharp.
Then I slide two fingers into her without warning, curling them just right. Her cry rips through the air, her walls fluttering around me.
She’s losing control, completely at my mercy.
I work her slowly, keeping her teetering on the edge, only to pull away again and again. She writhes, cries, begs.
“Please, Sir,” she sobs, trembling. “Please stop torturing me.”
Then her voice shifts. Clears.
“Is… is this because Dylan moved back in?”
The name makes my jaw tighten. My fingers still. I pull out, slick with her arousal. Her whine is immediate.
I grab her chin, making her look at me. “Do you think it’s acceptable to let your ex-fuck buddy move in while you’re in a relationship withme?”
“I… I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she says.
