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I've never had to walk a man through it, though.
Thankfully, it's then that the siren awakens.
The siren remembers who we are.
We are power.
We are unhinged beauty.
We get whatever the fuck we want.
"I need you to finger me, Dante," I say, and my voice has lost the meek edge to it.
His eyes move to mine, and thatfucking smileis there.
"There she is," he says, and without moving his eyes from mine, a thick finger slips inside me.
"Oh, fuck," I whimper, rocking my hips to get him deeper. His finger retreats and then slides in again, and I moan, my eyes drifting shut at the pure pleasure coursing through me.
"Watch. Watch me finger you. Watch what my cock will be doing to you." I obey, watching two thick fingers move in me, watching his thumb swipe over my clit.
"It's so good. It'stoogood, Dante. You're gonna make me . . ." My breath and all words leave my body as he adds a third finger, the stretch incredible. Pleasure tinged with just a hint of discomfort.
"That's it," he coos, watching his fingers, watching my body take him. My hands brace on his shoulders. "That's it, baby."
"Oh, god, fuck, Dante—“
“Yeah, you say my name. You say myfucking namewhen I make you come. Do you understand?” His fingers continue their torture, three thick digits fucking me, his thumb starting to rub my clit, pure, unadulterated torture.
“Yes, anything. Please!” I want to come.
Ineed to come.
I needthis man to make me come.
“When I’m done, when you come saying my fucking name, you get on your knees and return the favor.” My pussy clenches at the thought alone and he smiles. “You like that idea, don’t you?” The thrust of his fingers gets harder, less gentle, more chaotic, and the swiping of his thumb intensifies.
I'm falling apart.
"Yes," I whisper, and he smiles a devious smile.
"Good. Now come for your man, baby." His thumb presses hard on my clit as his fingers thrust inside me, crooking and hitting a new spot, and that does it.
I come undone.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as I do, and I fight to stay standing. The whole time, his eyes are locked on my face. Watching. Watching like he's seeing the most spectacular show there's ever been as I shake and moan his name, his fingers buried in my cunt.
As the wave of pleasure starts to fade, his fingers leave my body, and I mewl at the loss. His lips tip up, but still, I don't forget his demand.
I move, my foot leaving the bed, and I kneel before him.
Waiting.
"Such a good fucking girl, doing as I said," he coos to me, one hand moving to his belt and the other to my mouth. "Clean these for me." My mouth opens instantly, a slave to his demands, and I take his fingers inside and use my tongue to clean off every last drop of myself from them. His eyes watch me hungrily as I do, his hand moving faster before he pulls out his thick cock and stands from the bed, his cock bobbing before my face.
This could be shameful. Just like dancing on a stage, this could make me feel powerless and less than.
But the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. It might seem like he's in control of this, like he has the power, but he doesn't. There's something about kneeling before this man, fully dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, his hand stroking his cock, that feels like power.
