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“So much deeper than I remember,” I murmured.
Laughter shone in her eyes. Like I was pitiful for drinking in her smell. She didn’t know how I would degrade myself if it meant she would let me in. The moment she thrust her foot between my legs, I became an animal. Whatever she had, I wanted it. I would take it all if it meant I could spend another second running my eyes over her body.
The dress was criminal. She leant back against the cabinet, curving her spine, her breasts thrust forward. Another invitation.
I pocketed her thong. I had no intention of giving back my prize.
I stepped forward, but when I reached the cabinet, seconds from touching her, she growled. “I didn’t tell you to move.”
She slapped a hand against the hardwood, the crack ricocheting around the room. A thrill shot through me at the thought of her doing that to me.
Everything she did was sex. Every tiny movement she made reminded me of how she used to writhe beneath me all those years ago, begging me to thrust harder while she cried out my name.
This was different. She was in control. Not because I was scared she would change her mind, leave me here panting and wanting all over again. But because she demanded it. Power seeped from her. She expected obedience, and I was her willing servant.
I wondered what had changed her. I remembered her being so nervous and willing to please, back when we first fell in love. It ached, jealousy brewing when I thought she’d been with other men who must have brought out this side of her, who let her be free to explore herself.
“On your knees.”
Lust pulsed steadily to the beat of my heart. She tilted her chin, looking up at me, daring me to object. How could I say no when her legs were spread and the only thing keeping me from her pussy was the shadow of her dress and those fucking beads? I held her eyes as I lowered to one knee, my lips level with her thighs.
She was drinking me in. My obedience was everything. I looked up at her, at my goddess bearing down on me from above. Why was it only now that we saw each other like this? How did it take us so long to find this? Our young innocence and passion had vanished under the face of this force between us.
I slowly lowered my other knee, nearly bursting, readying to tear her legs open and plunge my tongue inside her. She drew it out, making me wait. I wanted to fulfil her every desire, trembling with need.
“Come on.” Her voice was husky. “Closer. You know what I want.”
She lifted her heels to meet me as I drew near, the wide tips digging into the soft skin of my shoulders. I grunted, and she hummed in reply. More marks for my collection.
Savouring the bite, my hands slid to her calves.
She quivered in surprise, her breaths quick, and I relished her growl. “You don’t move unless I tell you to.”
We watched, judging each other. It was a battle of wills. Would she give in if I pushed through? I considered it. I could release this desire and ravage her until she screamed my name, but I wasn’t ready for the consequences. This wasn’t my pretty little Kitty Cat, and submitting felt so much more delicious.
She slipped a hand beneath her dress, inching the green silk up around her belly, parting the beads. They clattered aside like a heavenly waterfall.
She leant against the wall, her knees parting, waiting for me as wonder burned on my face.
There she was. Dark chestnut curls, pink folds, thighs I knew would be as soft as her gloves. I couldn’t choose between her pussy or her face. I loved her smile, her look of complete fascination with how much control she had over me. Or was she simply reflecting on how deeply obsessed I’d become with every single inch of her body?
Cat used two fingers to spread herself open, and I was gone. How could I focus on her face when I hadn’t seen her pussy for ten years?
“Do you remember, Max? How I used to fuck myself while I watched you stroke your cock.”
My groan echoed around the room, my eyes fixed on the masterpiece in front of me.
She used to be my home. No matter what happened at gigs or rehearsals, I could return every day knowing Cat would be waiting for me. I would sink into her, feel her open for me, and know I was safe.
Now I was here, kneeling before her, starting all over again. As I watched her run her fingers through her curls, teasing herself as she stroked the soft, pink skin around her clit, I knew I was almost back. My home was buried inside her, and I wanted to return.
She hummed as she stroked herself, reminding me how she enjoyed a tease. I could see her clit growing, blood rushing through her folds as her slickness increased. I groaned as she slipped the tip of her finger inside herself, pulling it out, glistening wet.
My hands tightened around her calves, feeling tremors of pain from her fat heels digging into my shoulders as she pleasured herself.
“What do you want?” she asked, watching me intensely.
She was loving the show as much as I was. But if I was being honest…
