Jennifer pulled her hand away abruptly, leaving my cock jerking, throbbing in the open air, desperate for the touch she'd just stripped away. A shiver ran through me, my body aching with unfulfilled need, my breath still ragged from the way she'd owned me—own my pleasure, my pain, my fucking soul.
She brought her fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick them clean, slow, deliberate, her eyes never leaving mine. The sight of her tasting me—tasting my precum, my desperation—sent a jolt of shame and lust straight to my cock, making it twitch violently, begging for more.
"Mmm," she murmured, her voice low, husky, savoring the taste of me on her tongue. "You always did taste so good." Her lips curved into a smug, cruel smile, her fingers glistening with the proof of what she'd just done to me. "Almost as good as the way you obey."
I swallowed, my throat dry, my mind spinning with the aftermath of her touch, the danger of Emily just feet away, oblivious.
Fuck.
