Victoria slid the silk scarf between her hands; her eyes locked on his. There was something primal in the way she smiled. Dangerous, commanding, a woman intoxicated by her own power.
“Stay still,” she whispered, before straddling his chest and leaning forward. She took his wrists one by one, guiding them above his head, the scarf wrapping around with slow precision. She tied him to the bedframe, the knots firm but not cruel. Just enough so he knew he belonged to her now.
Tommy’s chest rose and fell like a man preparing for war, though this was one he had already surrendered. He didn’t fight it, he wanted this. He wanted her.
When she was satisfied with her handiwork, Victoria kissed him again, slower this time, dragging her tongue against his as if she could taste his restraint. Her hips rocked gently against his stomach, her heat pressing into his skin even through the delicate lace.
“You’re mine like this,” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. “Every inch of you.”
Her mouth left a trail of fire as she moved down his body again…chest, stomach, hips, until she was kneeling between his legs. His cock stood proud and furious, pre-cum glistening at the tip, his thighs taut with tension.
Victoria let her nails trace the inside of his thighs, so close he could barely stand it, but still avoiding where he craved her most. She kissed the sensitive skin there, alternating between soft lips and sharp nips of teeth, until he was groaning, fists pulling against the scarf above him.
Then, finally, she gave him mercy.
Her tongue pressed flat against the base of his cock, a slow, deliberate lick all the way to the tip. Tommy’s head fell back, a raw sound escaping him. She teased him like that again and again, savouring the taste, savouring his helplessness.
When she wrapped her lips around the swollen head and took him into her mouth, his entire body jolted. He swore, hips straining upward before she forced them back down with her palms.
“That’s it,” she purred, pulling back just enough to speak. “Stay still for me.”
Then she swallowed him deeper, her tongue circling, her throat opening to take more of him. The sight of her, perfect, powerful Victoria on her knees, his cock disappearing into her mouth was enough to undo him.
She built him with ruthless precision. Slow pulls, wet strokes, then faster, deeper, until his moans filled the room. He was at the edge, trembling, begging without words.
And then she pushed him over.
Her mouth worked him harder, sucking, stroking, until he roared and came fast and hot against her tongue. She took every drop, not breaking eye contact, swallowing him like it was another form of control.
When he collapsed back into the sheets, chest heaving, she kissed her way up his body again. She untied his wrists slowly, letting the blood rush back into his hands.
“Good boy,” she whispered against his lips, her tongue teasing his mouth.
But Tommy wasn’t spent. The moment his hands were free, something inside him shifted. The leash was off. The power changed hands.
He grabbed her waist and rolled her beneath him in one sharp, fluid movement. Her gasp turned into a moan as her back hit the mattress, her hair splaying against the pillow.
Now it was his turn to smirk.
“My turn,” he growled, his voice darker, hungrier, raw with need.
Victoria’s pupils widened, her body arching into his. For the first time that night, she was the one
surrendering.
And Tommy was ready to take everything he had been denied. |
