Page 120 of One More Chance
"You will obey me," she murmured, reaching down to cup my cheek, her touch gentle in contrast to the command in her tone. Her thumb stroked my jaw. "Stop."
I whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, and stopped. My hand froze mid-motion, the ache in me violent.
"Good boys get rewarded," she whispered in her deep sultry tone.
I nearly came undone then, just from the sound of her voice, the approval in her gaze, the sheer control she had over me. My body quaked, restrained on a hair trigger, obeying her because it washer. Because I would do anything she asked. Because Ineededher to know she had that power over me. Fuck, that Iwantedher to have it.
Her fingers trailed down my chest, nails scraping lightly. "You've been very good so far," she purred. "But let's see if you can keep being good… for a little longer."
"Sloane…" I begged again, breathless and raw.
Her smirk was devastating. "Oh, you'll thank me once I finally allow your release."
Then she straddled me and I forgot how to think.
If someone had told me years ago that my Sloane, the girl with the shy smile and the habit of folding laundry with military precision, would one day command me like a goddamn dominatrix in bed? I would've laughed in their face and asked what kind of psychic crystal ball bullshit they were peddling.
But after that moment?
I was a believer. Not because of some prophecy, but because of her sermons. Every whispered command, every deliberate touch, every rule she laid down and made me beg to follow.
This wasn't simply sex. It was a revelation.
And she? She had become a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, unflinching in her desires, and I worshipped the ground she walked on for it.
She straddled me with maddening slowness, knees bracketing my hips, her body hovering right above mine, close enough for heat to transfer, yet not enough for relief. Her skin brushed me like a whisper. My cock twitched against the air between us, painfully denied.
"You think you've been good?" she asked, tilting her head, fingers trailing down my sternum.
"I've done everything you asked," I choked out, my hand gripping the headboard like restraint was all I had left.
"But it's not only about obedience, Levi. It's about patience. Trust."
“I trust you,” I said, eyes locked on hers, "But my patience is about to burst all over."
She leaned down, her lips grazing my ear as she loosed a silky laugh. “Prove it. Hands behind your back.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. I did it without hesitation, locking my hands behind me, leaving myself completely exposed. Vulnerable. Hers.
“Good boy,” she whispered, and the words struck me like lightning down my spine.
She reached down, took the flesh light from my lap, and set it aside carefully as if it was a tool she'd use later; for either punishment or reward.
Her hands wrapped around my cock instead, her grip purposeful, warm and knowing. I gasped, muscles twitching with the effort to stay still, to not thrust upward into her palm like a starving man.
She teased me with her fingers first. Light touches, soft glides from base to tip that made my toes curl and my eyes close.
“No looking away,” she said firmly. “You watch me. You see who owns this moment.”
I forced my eyes open. She was watching me, her eyes dark with power, but beneath it, something gentler. Something healing and trusting. I felt the rush of endorphins threaten to take me then.
“I hated you,” she murmured as her hand tightened slightly, “for a long time. I hated how much I loved you. How much you broke me. But I never stopped wanting to be the only one who could bring you to your knees.”
“You are,” I said, voice breaking. “You always were.”
She guided the head of my cock to her entrance, dragging herself across me, wet and ready, taunting me with the promise of everything craved.
"This is yours Levi, and your cock belongsto me."
