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"Stay still," I remind him.

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

And then I lower my mouth to his cock.

My tongue touches the tip first, a slow, wet circle that seems to make every nerve in his body light up. I taste him and it quickly turns into something focused and hungry. I take him deeper, my lips sliding down, my cheeks hollowed.

He lets out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl.

I set an unhurried rhythm, almost lazy, my mouth moving up and down with a deliberateness that I savor. My tongue presses flat against the underside of his cock as I pull up. I swirl it around the head as I sink back down.

The movement is so precise, so perfectly calibrated for sensation, that he clenches his fists in the sheets, likely to keep from grabbing my head.

"God, Maren."

I hum in response, the vibration traveling through me. My thighs tense and liquid gushes out of me. It’s so hot having this control over him.

I pull back, my hand replacing my mouth for a moment. I stroke him while I catch my breath. My lips are swollen and wet and I look up at him with an expression that is equal parts tenderness and pure seduction.

"You taste so good," I say, and then take him back into my mouth.

This time I go deeper, and I feel the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I don’t gag. I just adjust and start moving faster, my hand working the base in counterpoint to my mouth. The sound of it, wet and rhythmic, fills the room.

I feel his balls go tight as I cup them in one hand. I know he’s close by the way his muscles lock up.

I pull back just enough to breathe and look up at him again.

"Come in my mouth," I say. "I want all of it."

"Fuck, Maren."

I suck his cock back into my mouth, hard and deeply, using my hand at the base. I use my mouth relentlessly until his whole body tightens.

“FUUCCKK!”

He comes, hard, and I start to swallow, throat working. My mouth stays on him until he’s spent and shaking.

I pull back slowly, wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb. I look up at him with a smile.

"How’s the pain?" I ask.

"What pain?"

I laugh, a low, satisfied sound, and crawl slowly back up his body, careful to avoid any pain points.

I press a kiss to his mouth so he can be sure to taste himself.

“I have some other plans,” I say to him.

“Oh, really? Like what?”

I sit up next to his chest, wiggling out of my panties and tossing them on the floor. I’m not done with him.

“I’m going to sit on your face now,” I say, matter-of-fact, like I’m announcing a dinner plan. “And you’re going to make me come. You’re still not allowed to move.”

His mouth falls open like a fish in surprise. When he recovers he says, "I think I can manage that."