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She’s got me on a tight leash and doesn’t even know it.

I slide my hands down, thumbs tracing her now soaking-wet sex, her clit swollen and sensitive. And I give it a light smack.

She jerks but groans softly, so I do it again. This time hard, and she sucks in a sharp breath, hands slamming down on the mattress outside of my hips, as if she’s out of controlof her body. Then she hits me with a request. “Again, please.”

Fuck me.

I can’t come in my pants again. Once was a funny story. Twice is an embarrassment.

I slap her clit again, and I know she’s riding the edge hard, so I soothe the sting with my fingers, and she plants her feet on the bed, hips lifting up.

“Fuck,” she swears, chasing my touch and orgasm.

I’m chasing my own.

She is just so hot.

This is so hot.

Being with her, I lose my place in space and time. All I hear is her gasp, all I feel is her heat, all I smell is her desire, all I taste is her skin, all I see is how she loses herself. In me. In us.

Knowing I can give this strong and independent woman pleasure, make her beg, bring her to her metaphorical knees while I get on my literal ones…it is all-consuming.

When I’m with her, nothing else matters.

Nothing but her and me and this ever-growing fire between us.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, that’s what they told us in church. And that’s what I am. Ashes without Taryn.

She shakes, muscles twitching, body pink and practically leaping off the bed with every pass of my fingers over her clit. She’s ready, and so am I.

“You want to come, duchess?”

“Yes,” she sobs, hands fisted in the bedsheets.

“How bad do you want it?” I fondle that sweet little button again, not giving her enough to send her over the edge, but enough to keep her right there, on the brink.

“So bad,” she says, her voice barely audible, her jaw tight. “Please, Dante. Please let me come.”

I give her what we both hunger for, circling my fingers faster and harder until she cries out, her stomach contracting, her pussy pulsing against my hand. I can feel her come, can feel the wetness, the heat. It’s fucking beautiful.

She collapses against me, limp, and I wrap my arms around her, her pulse racing against my lips when I kiss her throat, my own heart beating so hard against my chest, she can probably feel it.

Once she comes down, I tip her chin toward me, kissing her mouth as I roll us both to our sides, my chest against her back, her ass nestled in my lap. My cock is straining so hard, it’s poking out of the elastic of my sweats, and after I have them off, it twitches reflexively. I wrap my fist around the base, willing my excited member to cool it. We just put Taryn through the wringer; I can’t fuck her like a farm animal.

I slide my arm under her neck and kiss her throat, earning a soft smile and whispered, “You’re gonna be nice to me now?”

“I’m always nice to you,” I say with a nip to her ear.

“Yeah, that’s why I like it when you’re a little bit mean.”

I exhale a harsh breath because my lady knows exactly what to say to get what she wants.

“You ready for me to fuck you?” I ask, but I don’t wait for an answer. Instead, I skate my palm up and down the length of her rib cage then between her legs. She’s still wet, still ready for me. “Yeah, you are.”

I push in, moaning into her neck at the stretch and pull of her body accommodating mine, not being particularly careful or slow, thrusting in and out how I want.

But she likes it and twists to kiss me, her tongue finding mine, welcoming it into her mouth, and it’s not lost on me how special it is that she has invited me not only into her bed but her life as well. I know enough about her to know she doesn’t put her faith in a lot of people. And I won’t let her down.