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My eyelids flutter closed.
He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a pang to my sex.
He does it again.
Verse.
Again and again.
Breakdown.
I open my eyes. Turn to face him. Stare at him as I grind against him.
This is my dance.
I’m still in control.
I plant a slow, deep kiss on his lips.
Then I shift off his lap.
Onto my knees.
I unbutton and unzip his jeans.
Fuck.
I brush my lips against his cock. But the tease isn’t enough. I need him coming. I need release.
I take him into my mouth.
His hand knots in my hair.
His gaze goes to the mirror.
> Mine follows. God, he’s a genius, setting that thing up at a forty-five-degree angle.
I watch his cock strain my dark lips.
Watch his hand knot in my purple hair.
I’m naked, on my knees for him.
And it’s so fucking hot.
Feminine power fills me. He’s mine. He’s under my spell. Under my control.
God, I need him to be mine.
I take him as deep as I can then I pull back and do it again and again.
Ryan tugs at my hair, pulling me off him. “I’m coming inside you.”
My sex clenches.
“On the couch. On your back.”
We’re on the next song, but I still want my control.
