"I told her I wanted to ride you while you were helpless to do anything but feel." Her eyes were locked on mine, pinning me in place more effectively than any restraint. "No dominance. No control. No system-enhanced perfection. Just you. Under me. Completely at my mercy. Letting me take care of you for once."
"That's… that's your fantasy? That's tame as fuck compared to—"
She covered my mouth with her hand, her touch silencing me more effectively than a gag. "That's the point. Everyone else wants intensity, extremes, the thrill of the edge. I want connection. I want to make you feel so good you forget you're supposed to be performing. I want to show you that gentle can be the most intense thing in the universe."
And fuck, she was right.
My entire body was a bonfire, and she hadn't even started. Every soft caress was a lightning strike. Every whisper was a thunderclap. The anticipation was an exquisite form of torture, a slow, deliberate dismantling of my every defense.
