Page 112 of Drowning in Darkness

“Now he’s tightening it with one hand,” she whispers. No more prompts needed from me. “And hooking his fingers inside her mouth to force it open.”

Her legs tense. I grab her thigh and pull her legs apart by shoving my knee between hers. “James, please.”

I chuckle. “No relief for you until I say so.”

“And when will that be?”

“When you beg.”

“You’re impossible.”

She grabs my hand and shifts it higher to sit around her throat.

“Ask for what you want,” I demand.

She swallows. “You know.”

“There can’t be any guesswork where this is concerned. I’ll give it to you without question, but you have to ask for it.”

“I want your hand to mimic the belt. Or better yet, take off your own.”

Her hands fumble at my waist, her decision already made. She releases the buckle and slips it free from the loops.

“Put it around your neck, sweetheart, and tell me what’s happening on screen.”

She shifts, following my instructions to the letter. The length rests against my forearm in invitation.

“He’s stroking himself and rubbing the tip across her lips.”

“The tip of what?”

I check the belt isn’t too tight around her neck, then wrap the length in my fist, holding it against the back of the sofa. This way, she’s in control of how much she wants to feel and when it happens."

Breath play isn’t about stealing someone’s ability to breathe; it’s coaxing their pleasure higher, the danger and oxygen levels coming together to make an intoxicating mix.

“Answer me,” I demand, pinching her nipple harder. She groans, low and throaty.

Fuck, it’s taking everything I have not to open my eyes, but this is about trust.

“His cock. He’s pushing it inside her mouth now, and fuck...”

I snatch her hand from between her legs and cup her pussy. The satin of her panties is drenched again, but I resist giving her any pressure or friction.

“Keep describing it,” I urge as I rub myself against her outer thigh, leaving no question as to how I feel about this. She sucks in a breath.

“He hasn’t given her time to get used to his length. It’s all the way in, so deep her throat bulges with each stroke.”

“Fast or slow?”

“Slow. He’s pausing each time he’s buried inside.”

“How would you want it?”

“You,” she murmurs. “I’d want you. Slow like this, but with my hands bound.”

“Have you watched any videos where she’s wearing a ring gag?”

“Yes.”