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I stand over her, and my belt slides off my knee to the floor. I step out of my jeans and briefs and pick the belt up. I sit back against the headboard with my legs spread on the quilt.

"Come here. Sit between my legs with your back against my chest."

"Yes, Knox." She climbs up the bed and settles back against me. Her spine fits along my chest, warm and damp, and her head rests on my shoulder. My cock lies trapped between us against the small of her back, still slick from her mouth.

None of my weight is on her. My body is under hers, holding her up.

"Your hands go on my thighs," I tell her. "They stay there."

Her palms come down on my thighs, outside her own.

I take her right ankle and bend her knee all the way, until her calf lies flat against the back of her thigh and her heel is tucked up near her bottom. With both hands I wrap my belt around her thigh and calf together, just above her ankle, and buckle it snug, so the leg can't straighten. The leather bites a little into the soft skin of her thigh. Then my left arm goes across her waist, below her ribs, and stays there.

"That's my belt, holding your leg open for me," I say against her ear. "Not your wrists. Not your hands. Bandera takes it off."

She tests it. The leather creaks, and the leg stays where I put it.

"Yes, Knox."

I hook my left knee over her left one and spread my legs. Her left leg goes wide with mine, and her belted right knee falls open against my other thigh. She's spread open between my legs with her pussy bared to the lamplight, dark pink and swollen. She's so wet that it shines down the insides of both thighs.

"Look at you," I tell her. "I haven't touched you yet, and you're soaking my quilt."

A shudder runs through her, and her fingers curl on my thighs.

"You can't see my face right now," I say into her ear. "You don't need to. You know whose hands these are."

I lay my palm over her pussy and do nothing at all. She's slick and hot against my hand, and I feel her pulse beating there. She tries to lift her hips into it. Her hands press down hard on my thighs to keep her hips still, and her nails bite into my skin.

"Good," I tell her.

I slide two fingers down through her, slow, and spread her lips open with them. Her clit stands up hard. I circle it with one fingertip so lightly she has to strain to feel it. She makes a thin, high sound in her throat.

I know her body by now. When she's getting close, her belly goes hard under my arm. Her toes curl. She holds her breath at the top of every inhale.

My left hand slides up from her waist and closes over her breast. I roll her nipple between my finger and thumb while I rub her clit in slow, firm circles with my other hand.

"You're angry at me," I tell her against her ear, "and you're dripping on my hand."

She makes a furious, helpless sound. I keep at her until her clit is slippery and throbbing under my finger and her stomach tightens.

I take my hand away and rest it on her inner thigh, just short of where she wants it.

She jerks against the belt. The leather creaks. A raw sound tears out of her.

"I never told you I was close," she gasps.

"You didn't have to. I watched it happen. And I didn't ask you anything. I'll allow that one."

I wait until her belly softens under my arm and her breathing comes back down. I bring my wet fingers up to her mouth and paint her bottom lip with them.

"Taste what I'm doing to you."

She licks her lip clean, and then she sucks my fingers into her mouth without being told. I let her.

When I take them back, I slide them down her belly and into her, two of them, all the way to the knuckles.

She's scalding inside, slick and ridged, and she clamps down on my fingers so hard I feel her heartbeat in them. I curl them up against the rough spot inside her and press the heel of my hand down on her clit.