Page 80 of Game Misconduct

I know what my body looks like. I’ve worked hard to be in peak athletic condition. But the hunger in her gaze as she watches me, the anticipation on her face, makes all those hours sweating in the gym worth it.

“You said you weren’t into femdom.” Fuck, just hearing those words on her lips made me pant for her. “That still the case?”

Slowly, she nods. “I don’t want to be in charge. For once, I need to give up control. I—I can do that with you.”

“You can. And you will.”

I don’t need to be the one calling the shots, but if that’s what she needs, I’m happy to fulfill that role for her. To give her what she craves, whether she knows it or not.

I unfasten my belt, the ting of the buckle sending a zip down my spine. The whistle of the leather whipping through the loops makes my blood sing. I coil the strap around my fist, then set it aside on the dresser.

“Take me out, Bex.”

She lets her arms fall, baring her nude body to me. “And then?” Her hands fall to my waist, the back of her knuckles brushing my abs making my knees tremble.

“And then suck me like the good girl you are.”

Falling to her knees, she does as I demand. She draws me from my briefs, her small hand around my cock heaven after so many years of only my touch. After stroking over my length once, twice, she leans forward and licks the tip of my cock, her tongue dragging through the slit.

Oh, fuck.

Her crimson-painted lips part as she draws me into her mouth. I thread my hands through her hair, gathering it away from her face. The silky-smooth strands flow over my fingers, so soft, so delicate.

With her hand stroking my shaft and her wicked tongue teasing the head of my cock, I’m way too close, way too soon. Bex bobs her head, sucking on the upstroke, and—nope. Not happening. Not this way.

I tug her off my dick. “Enough.”

She rocks back onto her heels, her hand ringing the base of my cock. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did everything right.” I release a shallow breath. “But I don’t want to end things this way.”

A satisfied smirk crosses her face before she blanks it away.

I reach for her, tugging her upright by her upper arms. She lets me maneuver her like a rag doll, so willing to abide by my instructions.

If she wants to let go, I’ll be there to catch her.

Lifting her into my arms, I toss her onto the bed, then crawl onto the mattress beside her. I stretch out in the center on my back, then tug her to straddle me.

“Sit on my face.”

She flinches. “But I’m⁠—”

“I swear to fuck, if you say one negative word about yourself, I will make you regret it.”

Her swallow is loud. “But⁠—”

“Bex Marie.” I purposefully use my nickname for her. We may be skirting the lines of what she’ll allow, but I never want her to doubt my feelings are genuine. That this is still us, regardless of how we’re playing. “Sit on my face.”

“I don’t want to smother you.”

“If I die, I die.” With my hands on her hips, I guide her up. “Take your throne, Queen.”