We are tangled,
pressed together. He crushes me into my thick down bedding.
His eyes are different. They burn with more certainty. His hands need guidance. I lead them here, there. Yes, that’s it.
I grab for his belt but he has already released the buckle. We both smile. This is where I take over. I crunch. I rise up, my smiling mouth on course for his. But no.
He catches my shoulders and holds me there, hovering between the bed and him. We remain there, paralyzed with desire. I ache to tell him. Dare I.
Fuck it. I take his right hand in mine and place it under my head. I flex my core in a plank so he can hold me this way. I slowly draw my left arm around behind my back until my open hand stretches out behind my right side.
He has me. I smirk slyly. Devilishly. My eyes trace a line from his left hand to my own. Grab it! He grabs my wrist. Yes. His grip is firm. God. Yes.
I push my head back into his supporting hand. He handles me. My eyes are closed. He has me now. I lick my plump lips. I’m gushing now. I feel him rise and grow against my thigh.
Almost. I take his left hand. The hand that grips my own behind my back. And I lead his hand up toward my shoulders. He’s pressing my arm up in a painful contortion. I wince audibly. Panting. Jesus more.
He has me. I am his toy. He bares down harder on my arm. I gasp. I can do nothing under his weight. Under his control. Now I reach for his right hand. It cradles my head. My fingers comingle with his. They form a fist through my hair. Squeeze it tightly. More. My strands pull my head taught. He pulls down, titling my head back. God yes.
Please. I’m begging. My shoulder aches. I help him tug on my hair. I gasp louder than I should. It has to be him. It has to be now. Yes. He senses it. His suppressed dominant heart is released.
He yanked my head down into my waiting bedding. My back arches under my trapped, bent arm. His mouth attacks my exposed neck drinking up my powerlessness. He knows he took my power.
Oh God take me Sir. I’m begging. My eyes, my heart, my soul.