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“Just the fucking panties.”
“But—”
“Now.”
She huffs out a shuddering breath and pushes up her skirt, wiggling, those thighs exposed inch by inch, the lace at the top of her stockings spectacular against her smooth skin, then up, up to her lace panties.
The delicate lace and netting both cover and expose her—the small, dark patch of hair she’s growing in, hair I haven’t decided what to do with yet, and the lips that conceal all that heat and wetness. I’d call her tight cunt my place of pleasure, but that’s also her mouth, ass, tits. It’s beyond even that.
“Take them down slowly.”
She does as I command, exposing the swell of her sex, her cunt lips red and puffy with desire, moisture shining on the very tops of her inner thighs. My Rose; always so fucking wet, so fucking ready for me.
She moves out of them, dangling them from one finger, and goes to take a step, but she stops when I shake my head. I want to stroke myself, but that’s going to be her job.
“Skirt down, Rose,” I say softly. “Jacket off, and that sweet silk shirt unbuttoned enough to expose your tits for me.”
Her eyes narrow, and she bites her lip hard, her thighs pressing together.
Perfect.
My innocent, dirty, filthy, defiant girl. This creature is the most potent, deadliest thing I’ve ever met. She’s learning to wield her power, but with me, she comes undone. She wants me that badly. It’s powerful, the secret she’s learning is she undoes me, too. We’re caught together in a web of need, desire, and lust.
I’m here for it, for every fucking second of her perfection.
She goes to remove the hat, but again, I stop her. “Leave it on. Panties in your mouth. I want you to taste yourself.”
She glares in my direction. “I could stab you with this hat pin, Nikolai.”
“Maybe I’ll let you.” I look at her, the panties, her mouth, and then the floor.
Like a good girl, she puts the panties in her mouth, just past her lips, but it’s not enough.
“Further, Rose. Gag yourself.” She doesn’t fight me this time. No, she pushes them in a little more. “Like they’re my cock. Fill your sweet mouth.”
She shoves them all the way in.
“Crawl, Rose. To me.”
Rose keeps her gaze on the floor, and I can tell from the set to her shoulders that she both hates and loves this. Her nipples are tight, and that blush is everywhere. Still, it’s not enough; I want her so lost, she comes apart. “Eyes up, Rose.”
She jerks up her head, and I remove my cufflinks. Tears glisten at the edges of her eyes; right now, she hates me. Loves me. Wants me. I want my midnight Rose, the sliver of darkness in her that cuts through her innocence to make her something else entirely.
A creature made for me.
She crawls, the sway of her ass hypnotic, the progress slow because the skirt isn’t made for this. I roll up one sleeve and ignore the ache in my cock, the way it strains in my pants.
A tear slides down her cheek, dropping to the floor, and I part my thighs, letting her know exactly where she needs to be when she stops.
And she does. Right there. Nestled. All that fucking hot sweetness against me.
I pull the panties from her mouth as I cup her cheek, and then I lick them, sucking the wetness like I’m sucking her cunt, her tongue, before I drop them to the floor. “Shirt off.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“One you want.”
I thrust two fingers into her mouth, and she closes around them, sucking me in. Finally, I pull free and motion for her to take off her top and bra, and this time, she does as commanded.
