Page 148 of In Shadows We Dance

“Beg.” My voice is darker, rougher.

Her chest rises as she tries to draw in a breath. Her lips move, but no sound comes.

“Not good enough, Ballerina.” I release her throat just enough for her to pull in a desperate gasp, while my other hand moves lower, fingers finding her clit. I move them in slow, torturous circles, teasing her, pushing her closer to the edge and holding her there.

Her hips jerk against me, trying to get me to touch her where she wants it most. I squeeze her throat again.

“Please.”

“Louder.” My fingers press harder, faster, before easing off just enough to make her whimper in frustration.

Her body arches, her nails clawing at my back as she struggles to find her voice.

“Please, Wren,” she gasps.

“Still not good enough.” I pull my hand away, and she lets out a desperate sound, her body twisting as if to follow me.

“Please,” she cries, the word breaking on her lips. “Please, I need you.Please.”

The sound of her breaking, her surrender, is pure fire coursing through my veins. She’s mine. Entirely. Undeniably.

“Good girl.”

My hand finds her throat again, and I thrust two fingers inside her. Her body clenches around me immediately, gripping me tight as her cries turn into moans, and she rakes her nails down my back. The sting grounds me in the moment, while she twists beneath me, her hips moving to meet each thrust of my hand. Her moans grow louder, her body trembling as I curl my fingers.

“Don’t stop. Oh god, please, Wren, don’t stop.”

Her desperation is like a drug, her every sound pulling me deeper. I thrust harder, faster, until her body jerks, her cries turning into ragged moans.

When I have her right on the edge, I pull my hand away. She whimpers, her hips lifting as if to chase the friction.

“Not yet.”

I grip her thighs and spread her wide, then reach down to curl my fingers around my dick. I guide myself to her pussy, rubbing the head of my dick against her clit. I hold there, teasing her.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want you.” Her voice is thick with need. “I want you. Don’t stop. Please … don’t stop.”

I thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying myself to the hilt. Her cry shatters into gasps, her legs locking around my waist as I set a punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives her higher, her body clinging to mine as she writhes beneath me.

Her cries bleed into moans. Her nails carve into my shoulders. Before I lose myself completely, I grab the camera, raising it to capture her surrender. The shutter clicks, freezing her ecstasy in time. Her parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her hard little nipples, the way her body arches.

It’s all mine.

The sight, the sound, thefeelof her dragging me with her rips the air from my lungs. Before I come, I pull out of her and kneel between her legs.

“Spread your legs.”

I reach for the camera again, the shutter clicking as I capture every detail. The flush of her skin. The tension in her legs.

“Touch yourself.”

Her lashes flutter, but her hand moves between her legs, her fingers teasing her swollen clit. Her breath hitches, her clit sensitive, but she strokes in a circle, dips her fingers inside herself, her eyes locked on my face. The camera clicks again, capturing her in motion, her pleasure building as her body responds.

“Look at me.”

Her gaze snaps to mine, her earlier defiance replaced by trust, by need. The shutter clicks, immortalizing her surrender.

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