Page 63 of The Vixen

My legs quiver beneath me, unreliable as I shift back to sit on his chest, my forehead pressing to the headboard. Sweat-damp hair clings to my neck and face. I gather and twist it into a knot on top of my head before sitting up straight and drawing in a slow breath.

For several seconds, I feel pure bliss. Powerful. Lustful. Perfect.

Then the shame works its way through the cracks.

And the guilt.

It’s harder than it should be to look at Sawyer, even with my panties covering his eyes.

I lower my hand to his wet lips, parted with his labored breathing. The stubble that tickled me moments ago glistens—embarrassing, but… familiar.

A memory from before: hanging from cuffs, my legs heavy on Sawyer’s shoulders. One last slide of his tongue after I came, as if I’d gifted him something sweet.Mmm.

I wonder if I taste different now.

Wiping sweat off my forehead, I inhale one last deep breath before removing the panties from his eyes and using them to wipe his mouth.

“Very good, slave.” I give him a pat on his cheek before tossing the panties aside and climbing off his chest.

I stand from the bed and swipe my shirt off the floor. My back is to him as I pull it over my arms, but it catches on my head at Sawyer’s voice.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

I hold the shirt to my chest and turn. The impassive look I hardly fake cracks when I lock onto the devious glint in his eyes. Almost humored.

No glare.

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re gonnafuck my face, then make me jerk off alone?”

My gaze moves to the bulge in his pants. Large. Very noticeable.

Fake—somehow.

No. That’s ridiculous; no one could fake that.

“I never did that to you.” He says it as if it matters. Or if it makes any sense.

He never asked me to take him in my mouth. It was always about me and my orgasms; even when sex was involved it seemed to be priority number one.

I blink as I move back to his face. His handsome, devious face. Too dangerous to ever let myself fall for.

And still, I’m falling for it. The longer my eyes stay locked on his, the more my clit starts to throb, ready for a second release. My nipples, covered by the shirt over my arms, harden until they scrape fabric.

Warning signs.

Hairs stand up on my neck, goose pimples spread on my flesh. There’s a feeling in my gut that tells me to dress and leave this room. Take from Sawyer butnevergive. Never give him even a semblance of control.

Even tied up. I know even then he could manage it.

“I remember vividly the last time you came,” I say, even as I wander back to the bed. “If you recall, it wasn’t pleasant for me… I’m not an idiot. I will never give you the opportunity to do that again.”

“I’m tied up.”

I raise my chin and hum. “As you should be… Frankly, I give far too much freedom for a maninsistenton being useless. Perhaps you should?—”

“Useless?” He huffs. “Didn’t I just give you what you wanted?”

My jaw clenches as I bite back a retort before it fully forms. I pull on my sweater and tug the hem past my hips. “Worry about your future, Sawyer. Not your orgasms.”