Page 23 of Obey

The only thing I need to do right now is stand the fuck down. My dick has this woman pinned to the wall by her goddamn stomach like a spear. There’s no telling it that it’s not go time. It’s leaking precum into my boxer-briefs. The heavy pulsing and tightness in my balls demands release, and my head is spinning from how delicious this little sprite tastes.

“Jagger.” She rolls her hips against me, drawing a slow hiss of breath from between my teeth. “Do.Something.”

“What do you want me to do?” Open communication is important to me, especially in a scene or with a lover. I’m not thinking with my brain, all my blood’s pooled in my rod-stiff cock. This is what I wanted, her to need me, want me, crave me, beg me to take care of her so I could send her back to Harry de-flowered in as many ways as I can manage.

But this isn’t how it’s done. We sit, we talk, we make a list of limits, soft and hard, we discuss aftercare, and all manner of things. I don’t just grab a woman and pin her to the wall, assaulting her with my tongue.

But she tastes so fucking sweet, I want to do it all over again.

I didn’t expect a burning in my chest to want to make her feel good, but I can use it to my advantage.

“Anything. I don’t care.”

I dot kisses along her neck, across her jaw, over her chin, lips, nose, and forehead as she rolls her hips against me. “You do care. Youshouldcare.” I stop dead, no more kisses. Bracing my hands on either side of her head I lower my face so our noses are almost touching and we’re eye to eye. “What. Do. You.Want.Half-Pint?”

Her breaths are loud, sharp, heavy, weighed with indecision and shame. I don’t care if it takes all night, this woman will ask me for something she needs, or wants, in her own damn words.

Her cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy, hair sticking up in places. We need to reset. Need to breathe, do this properly. Any of the other doms in here approached a situation this way, I’d lay them out.

I’m not this person. I’m grounded, level-set, and practical.

Don’t lead with emotion, or my dick. It’s one of the reasons I’m so good at what I do. I don’t have space in my life to be unbalanced. I face every sexual interaction systematically.

Her breath tickles my skin as she trembles against the wall. Is it fear? Need? Curiosity? What makes every muscle in her body shake like this? And how can I make it happen again?

Taking a step back, she heaves out a slow hiss of breath. Is that relief?

“Are you afraid of me?”

Her tooth is pierced into her bottom lip so deeply it may draw blood. She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

That’s not the same as not being afraid, so I take another step back, pulling out a chair for her to sit in before I round the table and take a seat myself.

“Should I be afraid of you?” She’s leaning against the wall, her tiny stature quivering.

She probably should be afraid of me, yes. I want to ruin her, not just for Harry the Prick, but for any man ever to comeafter me. I want to make her scream so loudly, experience every sensation so intensely, make her crave self-exploration and discovery, guide her until she knows herself and every kink and fetish too well to settle, for the rest of her life.

“I won’t do anything to you that you don’t ask me to do.”

“That’s not a no.” She tips her head. “It’s not a yes either.” She takes a seat, scraping the chair across the tiles as she drags it closer to the table.

“I can’t answer that question for you.” It’s true, I can’t. I don’t want her to fear me, but if she’s afraid, I’ll need to take it slowly. “But we’ll need a conversation before I do anything to you, or with you.”

Her face falls. “Like, t-t-talk about it? Out loud?” She’s fucking adorable, and the way she shifts her weight in the chair suggests she’s every bit as wound up as she was against the wall.

“Yes, Talia.”

Her eyes flinch wider at my use of her real name.

“Talk. Out loud. About sex.” I wasn’t sure it was possible for her face to get any redder, but here we are. I lean forward. “We’re the only people in the building you know.”

She nods.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, or embarrassed about.”

She tips her chin upward, straightening her spine as she does. “I’m not embarrassed. I read... things.”

“Tell me.”

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