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‘Please, sir.’
His fingers slip inside the dainty strip of fabric, his ‘Fuck’ erupting with his breath, the groan that follows reverberating through me.
‘You’re so wet.’ He sinks his fingers deeper, slips them up inside me, finger-fucking me as I rock into the motion. ‘I want to fuck you right here.’
‘Do it, sir.’
‘No.’ He withdraws his hand. ‘I’m going to tease you like you teased me in this dress all day, Kitten.’
I spin in his hold. ‘But I want you.’
His mouth is tight, his body rigid. He wants me as much as I want him. I canseehe wants me, I canfeelhe wants me. ‘And you can wait.’
Fuck, I love him all commanding, but Jesus. I go to tug my dress down and he grabs my wrists.
‘Not yet. I’ve not had my fill.’
I frown at him.Fill?
He steps back, his eyes lowering. ‘Take them off, Kitten.’
I swallow, keep my eyes locked on his and bend forward. I slip my thong down my legs, step out carefully so as not to catch it on my stiletto heels.
‘Now give it to me.’
I offer it out and he takes it, slips it inside his jacket pocket in plain sight of the camera.
‘Now hold your dress up, let me see you.’
Slowly, I do as he asks, watch as he steps forward once more, his hand dipping to my pussy. He slips three fingers inside me with such ease, the pad of his thumb rolling over my clit in the same motion, and my hands fly to his shoulders as my knees buckle.
‘Yes!’
‘So responsive to my touch, Little Kitten.’ His voice is laced with approval, his skilled touch pushing me higher and higher. ‘You like that?’
I try to look him in the eye, try to tell him, but my whole body is quivering, my climax building thick and fast as he thrusts in deeper, his thumb continuing to roll.
‘Shall I make you come here, in front of those cameras like the naughty Little Kitten that you are? Would you like that?’
I’m whimpering incessantly now, my toes curling in my shoes, my nails digging into his jacket.
‘Val—Valentine.’
He stops, his thumb and fingers pressed hard against me. ‘That’s not how you address me. Do I need to punish you again?’
‘No. Please, sir, please—’
He pinches my clit and I buck, he does it again and again and it’s no punishment. The rhythmic sensation zings through my limbs like a pulse of ecstasy each and every time. I cling to his shoulders tighter, my mouth slack, my body weightless as I rise up on a tide of pleasure and come crashing down with a surge that has my entire body collapsing against him. Wave after wave, making me cry out at him. His name on shaky repeat.
And he’s not disciplining me for it now.
I drag in a breath, risk a look up into his face and the intensity of his expression has the air locked deep inside me, my eyes trapped in his.
I feel like there’s something he wants to say, something he wants to hear, and all I can manage is, ‘Thank you.’
He’s slow to respond and when he does his voice is thick. ‘Anger to gratitude; it’s quite the switch.’
My smile is small. ‘You have that power over me.’
