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Her condescension morphs into dark intention. Like she expected this, maybe even hoped for it. “Tongue out. Open wide.”
A fizzle of arousal sparks through me. I don’t hesitate, mouth wide open and tongue wagging.
Tamayo yanks me forward, hovering above me as she drops a line of spit into my mouth. “Don’t swallow,” she says. And then she’s guiding my head by my hair to settle back between her thighs. Her spit slides over my tongue and lands on her clit as she presses herself against my face. “See, princess, I need pressure.”
Her fist is tight in my hair as she pulls my head forward and simultaneously grinds her hips hard. A moan tumbles out of me and vibrates against her pussy. She hums at that, like I did well. But I’m not doing anything. I’m just a tool, wielded by her harsh hands and burning up with arousal tinged with a hint of shame.
“And you—you’re more about the rhythm.” Her breath is heavier now. I stare up at her, eyes wide open as she uses me tofind her pleasure. Her hair falls across her eyes, gaze hooded while she watches me watch her. “Do you know how I know that?”
I hum a no. My jaw is starting to ache, my scalp prickle.
“Because I pay attention,” she whispers like it’s a secret. Her hips jerk, her clit drags over my tongue, and I sit still like a good girl who wants to be used.
“I listen.” Her pace quickens, pressure harsher than before. A long moan drops out of her mouth. “But I can’t listen if you don’t speak up.”
My chin is sopping with my drool, with her wetness. I try to meet her thrusts, and she tugs my hair harder, a warning to stop. Finally, she’s falling apart above me, but it’s not because of me. I’m barely doing anything. And yet her chest is flushed, her body trembling on the edge of release, her movements losing all structure and devolving into a chaotic pursuit of pleasure.
My own clit is throbbing in my panties.Hands to yourself. I know it’s not what she meant, but I can’t hold myself back. Not when she’s moaning so deep, not when she’s so sweet on my tongue, not when each pull of my hair travels down my spine like static shock.
“Fuck. Yes, princess.” Her head is thrown back, the line of her neck perfect, and I have to relieve the pressure. My fingers slip over my panties, one single finger flicking over my clit. And just that amount of stimulation is enough to have my arousal climbing higher.
She rides my tongue while I find a rhythm that has my own hips jerking in small little jolts in an attempt to find more. The pressure isn’t fizzling, it’s building. Almost as quickly as Tamayo’s, her other hand grasping hold of my hair while her hips surge forward so hard, my teeth almost clack against her pelvis.
And then she’s coming on my tongue.
Sweetness floods over my tastebuds, over my lips and chin.A groan tumbles out of my throat as I lap up everything I can. My fingers quicken over my own clit, lifting me higher toward a crashing crescendo. Tamayo sags back, hands loosening in my hair as I kiss along the crease of her hips, her inner thigh.
And then her hands tighten in my hair with a punishing grip as she yanks me away from her pussy. “Hands,” she snaps.
I grin and lick over my cum-stained lips, my fingers continuing their pattern over my clit. I’m strokes away from hurtling into an orgasm. And with the look Tamayo’s shooting me—a glowering challenge—a few more will be enough.
Tamayo twists my head until I’m awkwardly watching her out of the corner of my eye. “Come once now at your own hand and no more for the rest of the night, or,” she says through clenched teeth, “put your hands on my knees. Now.”
My body tightens, teetering on the edge. I could topple. I could give in to this one, guaranteed burst of pleasure. But I know Tamayo doesn’t utter empty threats. She’ll edge me, just like she’s done the last week using only her words and the prospect of more, and not let me come again. But if I relent… Maybe in the future I’ll test her patience more, but today, I want to more pleasure than pain.
I force my fingers off my clit, splaying them over each of her knees, and affect innocence. “You said keep them to myself.”
She tongues her cheek.
My palms slide up her thighs, her skin soft like suede, reaching as far as her grip in my hair will let me. “I was just following directions.”
“Cheeky slut.” Tamayo shakes her head and stands, pulling me up with her. Each shift tugs on my scalp, and my hands fall off her body until they’re hanging at my sides. Her shirt hangs open over her chest as she steps out of her pants and shoes, forcing me backward. She rakes her gaze over me and licks her lips. My skirt is bunched around my waist, panties still on and likely glistening, breasts covered in goose bumps and nippleserect. And my face is covered in spit and cum. But she looks at me like I’m a painted Madonna, golden halo around my head.
“What were the consequences to using your hands?” she asks.
My breath catches. “You render them useless.”
She raises her free hand and opens it, her belt unfurling from her fist. “Color?”
I roll my eyes.
Her grip tightens in my hair. “Color.”
“Green.”
“Good girl.” Her voice is like a purr.
And goddammit, I hate that my body reacts to those words. My clit pulses with need, and desperation claws its way up my ribs. The feeling only heightens as she twists me around by my hair, releasing it to hold my wrists behind my back with one hand as she wraps her belt around them.