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“If it gets too much, I want you to tap out. The exact same way you would do in the cage.”
“I never tap out in the cage.” Her voice is strong, her pride unshakable.
I chuckle softly, before kissing her neck. “I know. But you know you can if you really need to. Okay?”
“Okay.” She nods a few times before I wrap a hand around her throat from the back. “This will be valid for everything, forever. If I’m too much, tap out.”
“You’ve never done this with me before,” she points out as her body relaxes.
“I’ve never done this with anyone. I don’t care if others can’t take me, but I care about you. I would rather you tell me that I’m out of control rather than realizing too late that I’ve lost you.”
My hand stays around her neck as I slowly run my other along her petite body. I palm her ass, the back of her thighs, and bend so I can grab the bottle of whiskey. Putting it in front of her, I bring it to her lips and make her drink.
“God,” she chokes out, spluttering and spilling whiskey on herself. “That’s whiskey!”
“Yeah. And you practically never drink, so you’re a lightweight.”
She clutches the hem of her skirt firmly. She’s wearing a simple white skater skirt that makes her look angelic. I can’t wait to soil it and her.
Keeping the bottle close to her lips, I bring the hand around her neck to her breasts.
“Billie,” I growl low as I start to lose rationality. “You’re not wearing a bra.” I can feel it through the oversized sweater she’s wearing. It’s a simple beige sweater of mine that she stole from my closet. It’s so large that one side is falling off her shoulder, and she had to tuck the bottom into the waist of her skirt.
I untuck my sweater and slide my hand under until I reach her perky nipples. I play with them, alternating and not stopping until she squirms under me. Her heavy breaths blow on the open bottle I’m holding in front of her, playing a beautiful melody that translates her need for more.
I tilt the bottle, making her drink again. She splutters again, and when she turns her head to the side, more spills over her. “T-too much.”
She takes a deep breath, hissing through the burn.
“Here’s what I want to do,” I tell her low. “I’m going to turn you on slowly.” I accompany my words by rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. “Every time you want more, you ask for a sip. And when I deem you inebriated enough, I’ll give you what you truly crave. How does that sound?”
She shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. She scratches her throat through the uncertainty before she talks. “I-I don’t know.”
I kiss just below her ear, following the trail of her neck until I gently bite her shoulder. She lets out a soft breath, and I ask. “Do you want to tap out?” I’m not playing fair, giving her a taste of the pleasure I’ll bring her if shedoesn’ttap out. I don’t really care. I also know how powerful ‘tapping out’ is in her mind. For a fighter, it’s defeat. Admitting that you’ve been beaten.
Billie wants to be unbeatable.
“N-no,” she huffs. “I’m not tapping out,” she adds between clenched teeth.
“Then play by my rules.”
I pinch her nipple and watch how she curves her back to press her chest to my hand. I play with her until she’s writhing, and a breathless moan escapes her.
And then I pull my hand away.
She lets out a wordless complaint. “More?” I ask.
She nods, but I insist. “Say the words.”
“I want a sip.”
She can’t see the wicked smile on my lips, but it’s like she can sense it. I feel her shiver as I bring the bottle of whiskey to her lips. I force her to drink bigger gulps than she usually would, and she takes them.
When I’m satisfied, I pull the bottle away and slide my hand between her legs. “Mm, no panties,” I murmur in her ear. “You listen so well.”
I run my fingers along the seam of her lower lips before breaching the barrier and grazing her clit. She pushes her hips forward, and I press my thumb against her clit. With balanced pressure, I start rubbing her slowly. She chases every one of my movements for a long minute. Her hand slams on mine when I pull away, but the pleasure weakens her muscles and she doesn’t manage to stop me.
“Another sip,” she whimpers.
