Trent
Her body collapses against me, soft and trembling, as I ride her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Every shiver, every gasp presses into me, and I hold her steady, grounding her in the storm of pleasure.
She lifts her head, sucking in a sharp breath as I pull my fingers free from her, and without hesitation, I bring them to her lips, tapping lightly.
She parts her lips eagerly, letting me slide my fingers into her mouth.
Her tongue circles them before sucking hard, tasting herself.
I watch, breath catching, as her lips and tongue work over my fingers.
Every lick, every flick of her tongue sends a shiver up my spine, a low ache straight to my cock.
There’s something intoxicating in the way she looks right now, how she’s completely focused on this small, wicked act, not knowing how much of an effect it’s having on me.
I pull them free with a ‘pop’ and crash my lips to hers unable to help myself as my tongue tangles with her, claiming each other.
Finally, I pull back, and our eyes lock. Her gaze burns into me—hot, yes—but there’s a dark, smoldering edge to it, the kind that tells me my little power trip is about to end.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmur, my voice low.
Her lips twitch into a sly smile. “I need you… inside me.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Do you want to ride my cock until you come again?”
A soft, teasing hum escapes her. She leans closer, her mouth brushing my ear, warm and dangerous. “Mmm… that’s exactly what I want,” she whispers.
Her words hang in the air, thick with promise, and I can feel the shift—her control tightening around us both.
I surrender to her without even a question. This has always been us. Switching control has always been our thing, something she’s wanted to explore from the very beginning—and fuck, it’s such a turn-on to see her in control, taking what she wants.
I feel privileged to be the one she chooses to dominate. So when she pushes against my chest, I step back without hesitation.
“Strip. Then get on the sofa,” she commands, her voice sharp—no room for argument.
I make quick work of my shirt, peeling it off over my head, then handle my jeans and boxers with careful, deliberate movements. Every step toward the couch sends anticipation crawling over my skin like fire as I watch her stalk me. Each step she takes makes my pulse hammer harder.
My dick presses against my stomach, leaking pre-come, and the urge to touch myself makes my hand twitch against my thigh. I bite my lip, holding back, as she strips off her thong, leaving her in only suspenders and stockings.
“Fuck… I need you so bad, Bree,” I groan, finally giving in. My hand wraps around my cock, gliding slowly, my movements bold under her gaze. “You like watching?” I ask, voice rough with need.
“Mmmm. So hot watching you do that,” she hums, leaning closer, eyes dark and hungry. She climbs into my lap, straddling me. “But let my pussy take over.”
My hands lift to her hips as she lowers herself in one smooth, deliberate movement, letting me fill her completely.
“Fuuuck,” I growl, every nerve on fire, heat and tension crashing together as she settles against me, claiming me wholly, utterly, and without apology.
She leans down, her hands braced on my shoulders, and slowly, deliberately, she works herself all the way up to the tip before sliding back down, drawing out every delicious second. Her movements are teasing, controlled, making me ache for more with each glide.
“God… you feel so tight,” I groan, kneading her hips to guide her. She answers with a low, moan that sends shivers down my spine.
Her hips pick up the pace, rolling against me, grinding with precision, and I feel my control slipping. My hands clutch her sides, fingers digging into her skin as she rides me harder, faster.
“Fuuuck, Bree… just like that. Don’t stop,” I gasp, my hips lifting instinctively to meet hers.
She bites her lip, eyes blazing, and leans down, her mouth brushing mine in a fierce, heated kiss. The pressure of her body, the slick heat of her pussy, makes my head spin.
“Your cock feels so fucking good, Trent. So big,” she moans, voice low and trembling, her pussy pulsing with every roll of her hips.
I grip her hips tighter, fingers digging in as waves of heat and tension course through me. Every movement, every press of her body, is a spark—building, stretching, threatening to consume us both.
Her eyes lock onto mine, dark and hungry, and I feel the pull of her control, the way she sets the rhythm, the pace, the intensity. I’m caught in it, powerless and wanting more.
I slide my hand between us, pressing my thumb against her clit in slow, deliberate circles. Her body shuddering under my touch.
“Yes… I’m so close. So fucking close,” she pants, riding me harder, hips grinding desperately, chasing release. I can feel my own climax building with every pulse of her body.
“I need you to get there, baby. You’re going to make me come,” I growl, voice thick with need.
Her movements start to get sloppy, her pussy clenching on me with frantic intensity. I take her hand, sliding it between us to replace me. “Keep playing with your clit, pretty girl. I’ve got it from here,” I murmur.
With both hands on her hips, I guide her in long, precise strokes, rocking her back and forth on my cock.
Every deliberate movement drives her closer, making her whine and gasp, caught between the pleasure she’s giving herself and the control she’s surrendered to me.
Her moans press against my chest, raw and needy, and I feel the tension building, the way she’s trembling under my touch.
I lean closer, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock.”
Her head throws back, eyes wide, and a guttural cry escapes her lips. The command shatters her control, and she caves into the pleasure, every muscle clenching around me.
“I’m coming…” she screams, and the feel of her walls pulsing, gripping me in waves of release, pushes me over the edge. My body shudders violently as I fill her, hot ropes of cum spilling inside her, her name slipping out in a low, ragged moan.
We collapse together, hearts hammering, skin slick with sweat, the heat of our bodies still humming from the release we just shared.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence—the heavy, warm kind that settles between two people who’ve given everything. Only the sound of our breaths fills the room, uneven, catching, slowly finding rhythm again.
My cock softens inside her, but I don’t move. I keep her close, her body pressed against mine, her breath a soft flutter against my chest. My hand drifts up, fingers tangling in her hair, and I press lazy kisses across her shoulder, tasting salt and skin.
“Dinner’s definitely cold now,” I murmur against her skin.
That earns a low, breathless laugh from her—genuine and warm—and the sound sparks something deep in me. I can’t help but laugh too, the tension melting into the easy comfort that’s always been ours.