Page 119 of One More Chance
I cleared my throat. "And how do I prove to you that… I'm a good boy?"
"You don't finish until Iallowyou to finish." Her voice was silk-wrapped steel, the commandment hanging between us like a dare.
My throat went dry. My cock twitched.
Fuck me, we're doing this.
I cleared my throat, hand still holding the toy like it might detonate. "Yes, ma'am."
She smirked now, ever so slightly, eyes raking down my chest to my lap like she inspected her property, already immersed in her role of goddess. "Good. Because you finish only when I say so. Not a fraction of a second before."
"Fuck." I exhaled a long breath. My pulse raced as she climbed off me, sat at the foot of the bed, and tucked her legs beneath her. Watching. Waiting.
"I want to see how you look when you're desperate," she said. "Not for release. For me."
I swallowed hard and nodded, lifting the toy slowly. My body already thrummed with anticipation, but her command made it something more. A challenge, a game, a twisted little trust fall wrapped in heat and love.
She didn't touch me. She didn't need to. Her presence was overwhelming, and she needed nothing more than her gaze to set every inch of me on fire. She reclaimed control over herself, me, us, everything.
The flesh light felt warm on me as I used it. Slick, tight, molded perfectly to replicate her likeness. It was surreal, obscene, and intimate all at once, and the fact that she watched me magnified every sensation.
Sloane didn't speak at first. She sat there, at the foot of the bed, her arms folded across her chest with a dangerous glint in her eye. She watched me like a warden, ensuring her helpless prisoner obeyed every unspoken command.
My breath caught as I slid deeper into it, the sensation so close to her it made my thighs tense. Despite the pleasure of the toy wrapped around me, it was her fiery gaze and how she studied me, burned me, that pushed me to a climax I was not allowed.
"Slower," she said, her voice calm but firm.
I obeyed.
She tilted her head. "I want you to remember what it feels like to want me. Earn it."
I groaned. My grip tightened involuntarily as my eyes rolled.
"Eyes on me," she snapped.
I looked up, throat tight. She filled the room, fuck, she filled my world. Confident, reclaiming control over her body as I lay there naked, humbled, and desperate to please.
"You do not come," she whispered. "You hold it. For me."
"For you," I repeated, breathless. "Always."
The flesh light was a tool. The real heat, the real connection, was her; the power she held over me, and the grace she gave by allowing me back in.
And I'd follow her rules until the end of my days.
Every.
Single.
One.
I neared my climax, the tension rising from deep in my loins, coiling tighter with each stroke. My thighs trembled. My abs clenched. The pace of my hand betrayed me, faster now, desperate, the edge so close it felt like falling.
"Sloane," I ground out, my voice rough and guttural. My chest heaved with the effort it took to hold back, to not spill my seed like an offering at her altar.
"Not… yet," she said, her voice thick with desire, but firm with restraint. Her gaze pinned me, unrelenting and hungry, as she slowly stood at the foot of the bed.
The room was silent but for the sound of my breath and the slick rhythm of my hand. She moved with maddening control, crossing the space between us one barefoot step at a time until she stood next to the bed, towering over me like a goddess from on high, heat radiating from her.
