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Still bending down, I saw her nod.

“Eyes on me.”

She was grimacing when she straightened. “Please, stop that. I’m giving everything not to combust here. Don’t I have like a safe word or something?”

“Do you need a safe word?”

“Right, now, yes. Because it’s either you fuck me right now or I’m going to make myself come right here, right now.”

I smirked at her, enthralled by her bluntness. I loved unhinged Reagan. But I guess she was right. It was time to give her what she wanted. And I couldn’t help but imagine her words come to life.

“How many times did you come without me?” My cock was growing hard just at the sight of her long legs and her subtle cleavage that was showing on top of the straight neckline of her dress.

“Three times,” she answered.

“Did you touch yourself?”

A nod, as she bit her lower lip.

“Where?”

“In one of the bathrooms in the VIP room.”

“Where else?”

“In the supply closet on the twelfth floor.”

“And?”

“Inside the pantry.”

“I hope no one was there.”

“You think I’m stupid?”

Her attitude made me reach for my phone just to let her know that I was in control tonight. But she yelled for me to stop, and the look in her eyes was telling me that she was seconds away from pulling that thing out.

“It’s been quite a taxing day for you, hasn’t it, darling.”

“You have no idea.”

“What are you waiting for?” I grumbled. “On your knees.”

She beamed as she got to her knees and crawled between my legs. The view alone sent a rush of blood to my cock, and I moaned as I grabbed a fistful of her hair from the name of her neck to pull her head softly backward.

“Unfortunately, you lost,” I whispered as I devoured her mouth once before pulling away, her teeth biting mine as I went as if she didn’t want me to leave her hanging. “And I’ll have to introduce you as my fiancée during the gala. But since you’ve been a very good sport, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Yes, please,” she said softly.

“Now let me fuck that pretty smart mouth of yours.” But just as I thought that I was the one in power, Reagan took control without warning as she removed her cardigan and lowered the straps of her dress and bra from her shoulders, pushing them down to her waist.

She massaged her tits with her hands, her nipples pink from the bra she was wearing. She pinched her nubs, stretching them. And I took it upon myself to unzip my trousers and, lifting my hips from my chair, I tugged my pants and boxers down to my ankles.

I was hard as a fucking rock when I grabbed my penis, wet with precum as I watched Reagan massage her boobs. I stroked my dick, slow at first, feeling the veins against the palm of my hand.

“I think it’s time to cash in on that promise about fucking my tits,” she chirped before pushing her breasts together. They weren’t huge, and they weren’t small either. They were big enough to fit in her palms.

She tasted the tip of my cock first, her tongue circling it before she directed it against the space between her tits. And she sank her chest against my length, the end slowly appearing on top of her pale breasts, her hands circling the gap around my cock where her boobs couldn’t reach.

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