Page 41 of The Games We Play
“Don’t make me,” she says breathlessly.
“Only way it’s going to happen, chick.”
“Fine,” she says with a little huff of defiance, not knowing it makes me want to fuck it out of her. But I’ve realized with Iris, it’s about luring her in. She won’t come easily, even if she wants to.
“Fine, what?”
“Can you touch me, please?”
“Of course,” I say, deliberately touching her shoulder, drawing a figure eight on her skin. It’s killing me not to give in and touch her like she wants. I’m desperate to. But I also need her to express her needs to me. “Like this?”
“You know that’s not it,” she snaps.
I grin. I like the fight and fire. Makes submission all the more beautiful.
“Careful. I love making brats do what I want.” I lean forward, getting close to her ear. “Tell. Me.”
“Spark. Will you get me off?”
“How, little chick?”
“Will you get me off using your fingers?”
“Say please.”
The fire meets her eyes, her gaze burning. There’s passion buried deep in there. Passion I bet she rarely shows.
“Please.”
“As a sentence.”
She leans forward in the tub. “Please, Spark. Will you make me come on your fingers?”
Fuck. Those words from her mouth almost make me come in my pants. Domination is its own reward. “With pleasure. Now lean the fuck back before you hurt yourself again.”
My voice was gruff, I know it. She knows I’m as turned on as she is right now, and we’ve barely touched each other in a sexual way.
I slide my fingers between her tits, over her stomach. I pause over her mound and wait as she tries to defy me one last time by not opening her legs. I glare at her, and fuck me, if she doesn’t smile, melting my heart as she parts her thighs. Can’t even tear myself away from her face for a moment, even though her pussy is right there waiting for me.
Warm fingers wrap around my wrist and guide me lower.
Then I look. Beneath the water.
I stroke her clit gently for tonight. She’s been a brave girl. Everything I said I want can wait, because she’s hurt, because she already took the biggest step and exposed herself to me. Her telling me what she wants was more powerful than the orgasm I’m about to deliver.
When she gasps, I slide a finger into her. She’s wet and warm and so fucking tight, I wonder if my cock’ll fit. It’s why I usually go for less fragile women. But suddenly, I really want to feel that blood-flow-stopping squeeze around my dick.
Her hips roll slightly, sending a wave of water to splash against the edges of the tub.
“Spark,” she says on a sigh.
I ease my finger back and forth over her clit before sliding back into her. I keep it slow.
Measured.
She keeps her eyes on mine without me even telling her to.
Her nipples peak. Deep pink and dripping with water. I want to catch the droplets with my tongue.
