the scene, I know I’m a goddamn liar. I want my mouth on her again, want to taste her, want to feel her come all over my face. I unfasten her pants and ease them down her legs, taking a little longer than strictly necessary. She’s built lean, but Malone is strong. Her legs show the same strength as her arms, muscle readily apparent with each move she makes. She steps out of the pants and waits while I fold them neatly before she sinks onto the chair and casually throws a leg over one of the arms. “Be quiet.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I move to kneel in the space she created for me. I should…
But there’s no room for should, not when she’s so pretty and pink and right there waiting for me. I dip my head down and kiss one inner thigh and then the other, easing my way up her legs. Malone makes an impatient noise but doesn’t stop me. Instead, I hear her picking up her phone.
When she speaks, it’s coldly professional. “Yes, I’m here. Bring on the team and do what you need to do. You’re taking lead on this one, Marshall.”
I slide my hands up her hips, pushing her shirt higher. She reaches down without looking and stops me before it reaches much past her navel. A severe look tells me that this is all the territory I have to work with. I bite down on the disappointment I have no business feeling. Why should I be annoyed that I don’t get access to her breasts when her pussy is right here and waiting?
Maybe I’m just annoyed at everything Malone does.
Or, more accurately, I’m annoyed at myself for wanting her despite everything she’s done. And I do want her. I’m honest enough with myself to admit that. I dip down and kiss her pussy, doing what I always do—channeling my frustration and anger into lust. It’s so much easier to manage this way, to smile and orgasm and cry out the emotions I’m not comfortable showing to the world. When I’m in a scene, no one expects me to display perfect control. The carefully orchestrated shattering is the point.
I want Malone to shatter. I want to be the one to cause it.
She tastes exactly like I remember, a truth that should have been blurred by time and many partners, but it’s there all the same. Every moment of that night is seared into my memory. I’m not the same person I was then, but it doesn’t change the way one lick takes me back.
That night I was sure she saw into the very heart of me. Saw all my scars and trauma. Saw my desires. Saw everything. She pulled it out piece by piece, breaking me down until I was an exposed nerve for her to strum at her leisure.
I could have survived that. Other Dominants have brought me close to that point over the years, though no one quite so skillfully. No, it was how she held me afterward that fucked with my head. It’s the only time in nearly ten years of knowing her that she wasn’t icy and distant. She felt warm and soft and all too human.
She felt like mine.
I shove the memory away and focus on the task at hand. Malone says something about annual review reports, and her voice isn’t even breathy. She could be sitting at a desk in the middle of a crowded office, rather than in her bedroom with my mouth on her pussy. I look up at her and push two fingers into her. She doesn’t bother to so much as glance at me. She simply reaches down, grabs a fistful of my hair, and guides me back to her clit.
What a magnificent bitch.
As irritating as I find her control, it feels like she threw a gauntlet at my feet that I’m only too happy to pick up. I toy with her clit as I carefully explore her with my fingers, looking for her G-spot. It doesn’t take long to find it, and her legs go tense as I stroke my fingertips against it.
Got you. I keep up that motion as I focus on her clit. There may be time for teasing and playing later, but I’m on a mission right now. I want her to come and crack that perfect iciness she presents to the world. I want her hot and fiery and on the edge of control. I want to be the one to