The control.
That's what has me breathless.
I'm mastering him with nothing but my mouth, claiming his restraint one aching second at a time. The feel of his cock on my tongue—the weight, the heat, the taste—drives me to the edge of something feral. I could keep him here all night, dancing along the brink, dragging my tongue slowly along his length just as his climax threatens, only to pull back and watch him fall apart.
I'm thinking about it—about the taste of him. His release thick and warm down my throat, the way his guttural groans would fill the air and wrap around my spine. I want it. And I know he does too.
But he's fighting it. Fighting me. Fighting the inevitable.
His cock hits the back of my throat, and both of his hands grip the sides of my head like he's holding onto the last strand of control he has left. My lips glide, my tongue works, my hand pumps in rhythm.
"Fuck. Thirty more seconds and your sweet mouth would be full of me."
He pulls back with a hiss, and I release him with a wet pop, licking my lips as I look up at him.
"Scoot back and spread those legs, Trouble. Let me see what's mine."
A wicked smile curves my lips as I slide off my heels and inch myself up the bed, pausing just long enough to raise one brow in challenge. "Only for tonight," I remind him, my voice sweet and low.
"Even still. Mine," he says, his tone certain, commanding.
His eyes rake over me as he strokes his long, thick cock with a lazy confidence that makes my mouth dry and my core clench. "But you've got far too many clothes on, baby."
He holds out his hand, waiting. I meet his gaze, my breath shallow as I slip my fingers beneath the black lace of my panties, sliding them slowly down my legs. I place them in his hand without a word.
"Spread them."
The authority in his voice makes my heart thud.
I obey.
Laying back on my elbows, I part my thighs and place my palms on them, dragging them slowly down to tease myself as his gaze fixes on the slick heat between my legs.
"So fucking beautiful."
He shifts my panties to his other hand, then wraps the delicate fabric around his cock. Slowly. Deliberately. Stroking himself with them like they're sacred.
He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, dragging the scent of me into his lungs like it's air he's been starving for.
Holy hell.
He's dangerous. Lethal.
"I can't wait another fucking second to taste you, Trouble."
He's on the bed before I can breathe, crawling up between my spread legs, his lips painting a trail of heat up my thighs, slow and unhurried. His nose brushes up the wet center of my pussy, the tip of his cock hanging out of his open pants, hard and leaking.
He growls. The sound is primal.
And when he looks up at me, it feels like my entire world tilts.
His mouth finds me in one long, measured lick. I moan, my thighs twitching around his face as my head falls back.
"The sweetest troublemaker I've ever had."
His voice vibrates against my core, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through me. Two fingers slide between my folds, spreading me open for him, and he studies me—memorizing, drinking in every detail like I'm art and he's the collector who finally found the masterpiece he's been searching for.
Then he devours me.
Not just licking—consuming.
"Oh my God."
My back arches off the bed as he thrusts a finger inside me. He curls it. Pumps it. Makes me sing.
"She's singing for me, Trouble."
The slick sound of my arousal mixes with my panting, my needy gasps echoing into the room. His mouth is back on my clit, sucking, tongue swirling as he adds a second finger. The pace is perfect. The pressure devastating.
"Come on, baby. Sing for me."
My legs shake. My hips roll against his face, chasing the orgasm he's coaxing from me like a thief in the night. My fingers dig into my thighs, nails marking my skin. I grip his hair with my free hand, holding him there as the first orgasm crashes over me.
I'm trembling. Moaning. Pulsing against his relentless mouth.
But he doesn't stop.
"Give me another one, beautiful."
He's demanding. Like everything in his life bends to his will—and tonight, that includes my body.
"Not yet—"
He cuts me off, adding a third finger, making me cry out as my vision swims with stars.
"I want you." His voice is rough silk. "You're going to give me everything tonight."
He sucks my clit, then licks and nips with exquisite precision. His free hand comes up to pinch my nipple, rolling it between his fingers, and my next orgasm barrels through me like a storm.
I cry out, hands clutching the pillows as I ride the wave. He's relentless. Unapologetic. Addicted.
He pulls me up by my wrist before I can even catch my breath and flips me.
Now I'm straddling his face.
His strong arms wrap around my thighs, pulling my soaked pussy back down to his mouth like a man desperate for another taste.
He's ravenous.
And I lose control.
"Oh my fucking God, yes," I gasp, eyes squeezing shut as I grind against his mouth. My fingers find the headboard, using it to steady myself as I ride him shamelessly.
"You want me to fuck your pretty face, mystery man?"
He growls in response, animalistic and hungry. He wants me to say his name.
And I want to scream it.
But no names.
No future.
Only this moment.
His teeth graze my clit and I cry out again, my orgasm building fast and vicious.
"You feel so fucking good," I gasp, hips rocking, chasing the edge.
"I'm coming."
And I do.
Hard.
My body jerks, and my hand pulls his hair as I pulse against his tongue. Each wave of pleasure steals my breath. And still, he licks—slow, gentle strokes like he's kissing me through the aftershocks.
I slump forward, chest heaving, trying to breathe.
"Lean forward. Tits on the bed. Keep this ass in the air."
His voice is thick with need, his hand pulling my hips back into position.
A kiss lands on one cheek.
Then a sharp smack.
"God, just fucking kill me so I can die a happy man."
I hear a drawer open. The unmistakable rip of foil.
And then—finally—the head of his cock nudging my soaked entrance.
I moan, pushing back, greedy for it.
His chuckle is low and dangerous.
"I'm going to take care of you, Trouble."
He slides his cock up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal before easing in.
And every inch is a promise I know he intends to keep.