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Eleanor refrained from speaking and instead reached behind her and began to unzip that beautiful red dress. My mouth watered at the sight of her slowly becoming bare before me.

First, the thin straps fell off her shoulders; next, the neckline dipped, revealing her beautiful bare breasts. Catching at the hips, the fabric balled, and Eleanor reached for it, shimmying the dress down…until finally it pooled at her feet.

She hadn’t been lying. Eleanor didn’t have panties on, nor a bra.

Stepping out of the flowing red around her, she slightly kicked it to the side. She moved toward me, but I held up a finger in warning.

“Not so fast,” I demanded and she stopped in her tracks, her lips parting slightly at my command.

I shook my head and pointed to the ground. My voice low and gravelly as I said, “Crawl.”

I wanted to savor the moment. I wanted her on her hands and knees submitting to me.

Eleanor swallowed, the sound nearly loud enough to echo in the small space. She moved to kick the heels off, too, but I stopped her again with a commanding finger and shook my head.

Without protest, without a smart comeback, she sank to her knees and moved forward on all fours—her movements deliberate as she crawled toward me.

Those round eyes were locked on mine and I was unable to look away.

This, right here, was a sight I’d remember forever. Eleanor, on her knees, submitting to me like I’d insisted.

As much as I loved her smart mouth, seeing her naked and compliant sent a jolt to my cock, twitching against my dress pants. I slid off the tux jacket and threw it on a wooden table to my right.

With my eyes still on Eleanor, I undid my cuffs, and one at a time, the buttons popped. I rolled both sleeves up my forearms, and by the time I was done, Eleanor was in front of me.

She sat back on her heels and placed both hands on her thighs like a good fucking girl.

“Look at you,” I purred, taking a step toward her. Reaching down, I placed my thumb on her chin and angled her face, forcing her to put her attention on me. “So fucking gorgeous, on your knees for me.”

Eleanor’s face tightened ever so slightly, her eyes flickering with the urge to protest, and I couldn’t help but grin. The struggle of relinquishing control, of not being the one on top, was clearly driving her mad.

We were two people fiercely drawn to power, each craving to lead, which on paper might sound like a recipe for disaster. Yet, with us, it was a mixture of something daring and beautiful—a dance of equals, challenging and pushing one another in ways only we could understand.

Both of us had reasons rooted in something deeper, carved from the same stone. We were driven by the need to assert our independence, to break free from the past that tried to define and confine us.

“Show me how much you need me, Sunshine,” I whispered, releasing her chin, offering her a moment to reclaim her control, even as I forced her to fall to the passion simmering between us. It was a delicate balance of dominance and surrender, a testament to the desire that we’d found ourselves engaged in these last weeks.

Eleanor reached for her nipples, playing with the peaked, sensitive skin between her thumb and pointer finger. A whimper fell from her lips as she tugged, pinching harder. I couldn’t contain my own groan that followed.

She trailed her hands over her soft skin, exploring her body with a slow, deliberate grace, while I stood rooted in place, arms crossed tightly over my chest, fighting the urge to reach out and take her. Every brush of her fingertips against her flesh was a test of my restraint, a battle between my desire and the will to let her savor the moment for her own pleasure.

The look that overtook her face was a silent command that kept me in check. She was reveling in this far more deeply than I could ever imagine, and that realization was humbling. No matter how much I wanted to assert my dominance, to take control, the truth was stark and undeniable—I was powerless against Eleanor. She was my one weakness, the one who could bring me down with a glance, a touch, a sigh. In her hands, I was lost, and I didn’t want to be found.

When she’d had her fill, she lowered her gaze, her attention focused solely on the erection that was aching in my pants.

She reached out and palmed me, squeezing hard and stroking the length. I needed her skin, needed the warmth of her against me. The mutual need was thick and full of tension as it hung in the air. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them to the floor. My cock sprang free, already dripping at the tip.

Eleanor’s hand wrapped around me, and she jerked up and down, bringing the tip of her tongue to my skin and running it along my slit.

Swipe by torturous swipe of her tongue, she savored the taste and pulled a long growl from my throat.

“Come on. Suck my cock, Sunshine.”

I ran my hand down her head as I admired her beauty.

“Take me like I know you can,” I said, my tone low and devious.

That sparked something in her—the competitive side came out, and she let loose. Eleanor took my cock in her mouth, swallowing me until the tip hit the back of her throat.