Page 61 of Watching Her

As I reached for my glass of scotch, I held my breath while every muscle in my body tensed. That’s how demanding her hold over me was. Her dark hair swept across her shoulders, hiding the luscious tips of her fully erect nipples as she crawled closer.

Her posture screamed of submission, but little did she know that she held all the power. For now.

I enjoyed every moment of watching her, a budding flower eager to embrace the morning sunlight. Perhaps from the anticipation, but the normally smooth scotch burned the back of my throat.

With every inch, my breathing hitched, becoming labored to the point my throat went completely dry. While the distance was only a few yards, the time it took to cross the path was excruciatingly long.

When she was only a couple of feet away, she swung her hair back and forth, enticing me. I restrained myself from reaching out, forcing her to come to her master.

I had to admit doing so was difficult, stripping away the last of my patience. In seeing her on all fours, my mind drifted to all the filthy things that I could do from behind her.

She was enjoying herself tremendously, inching closer and closer while keeping her eyes locked onto mine.

If she thought she would be allowed to get away with tormenting me but for so long, she was dead wrong. I took another gulp of scotch and suddenly, she was on her knees, moving between my wide-open legs.

With a single stroke of her other hand, her fingers crawling along my chest, she then cupped the side of my face. As she brought my head down, she allowed me the pleasure of hearing her purr. The woman knew exactly what she was doing to me, exhaling her heated breath across my face just seconds before capturing my mouth.

Her tongue was quick to explore, sweeping through the scotch while one hand gripped my knee. As she gathered the liquid in her mouth, I could still hear her subtle moans.

She was truly something very special, a woman created with my needs in mind.

Her body shaped for only my hands.

And her sweet pussy meant for my cock alone.

When she broke the kiss, she sighed heavily. Her fingers continued crawling toward the bulge between my legs.

The way she eased back, her eyes searching mine was a lesson in temptation. She leaned back enough to roll the palms of her hands along the insides of both my legs. The stimulation was incredible, close to becoming too much to bear.

Of course the lovely woman knew what she was doing to me.

Yet she had no understanding of what I would do to and with her. That would be delicious and filthy when she finally figured out what was happening. I was giving her more rein tonight to see how far she’d go and what she was comfortable with. I’d also learned more about her, snippets I’d collect and store in the back of my mind.

Including her love of fairs.

She shifted her heated gaze, almost as if daring me to challenge what she was doing. She didn’t wrap her hand around my bulge, instead merely brushing her knuckles back and forth. I could tell by the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth she was pleased my cock reacted by pulsing even more than before.

The way her other hand was squeezing my thigh was just as inviting.

Every few seconds, she searched my eyes for affirmation.

Just as I’d envisioned on camera a few nights before.

Once again, her hand brushed casually, then lingered over the sudden ridge pressing against my trousers. I let out a low, ragged breath and leaned down, a slow smirk tugging at my lips as I watched her cheeks flush. Knowing I had this exact effect on her went straight to my head, and I didn’t bother trying to hide my body’s reaction.

The ghost of her fingertips brushing that exact spot made the air in my lungs vanish. It wasn’t just the physical spark; it was the absolute certainty that with a single, feather-light touch, she had completely upended my control. I was entirely hers in that moment.

However, I wasn’t the kind of man to relinquish control for very long. Why not use this as her first real teaching moment?

“You should know better than to touch something when not given permission.” I was curious as to her reaction.

Instead of curling her fingers and pulling them away, she offered another even filthier look than before while stroking me. The moment was indulgent and soon, I was in enough discomfort I needed a distraction.

“I didn’t know I needed permission.” Her tone indicated a challenge.

“Then it’s time you do.” There was far too much need, the hunger more challenging than I’d experienced with anyone else. She was surprised, perhaps even shocked when I reacted, grabbing her waist and hauling her over my thighs. The impact anchored me.

“What are you doing?”