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My cock jumps at her agreement, a small flush of power running through me. Leaning into her neck, I bite down hard. She cries out, trying to pull back against my grip. I squeeze her wrists in warning, pulling back to look into her eyes again.

“This body is mine and I’ll do what I want with it. And if I want to fucking bite you and hurt you, you will not pull away. Understood?”

Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed, as she nods without taking her eyes off mine.

“I didn’t hear you,” I whisper.

“I won’t pull away,” she says, leaning forward to me. I don’t fail to notice the heated look and realize that she loves this. Good. I slam her back and she cries out again. I grin before frowning as I look again at the blood splattered little girls’ dress. I release her wrists, stepping back and nodding at her outfit. It’s not a fucking child I want.

“Take it off,” I command her, feeling my dick swell when she immediately lifts a hand to unzip the back. I groan when it drops, revealing her pale and sweet body. My gaze trails down to the perfect handful sized breasts and perfect pink nipples, the softness of her stomach, utterly feminine and touchable. My breath catches at the sight of the small black panties, the thigh high socks still remaining. She licks her lips as I pace in front of her, trying so hard not to lose control.

I need to stay in control.

Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath before stepping up to her, not touching her despite how my body is shaking to do so. She raises a hand to touch me and I shake my head, enjoying how she immediately pulls back and waits for my direction.

A small bit of understanding falls into place.

Control. Power. Love.

This is how it can be. This is how it should be.

I pace in front of her, unable to keep still yet unsure of how to move forward. All I want to do is toss her on this table and fuck her senseless, but a part of me knows that isn’t how I will own her. She wants that. She wants pleasure. If I will truly own her, her pleasure needs to be my choice, not hers.

She bites her lip and I stop pacing, pointing at the floor in front of me.

“On your knees,” I order. She nods, her eyes dropping to the large tent in the towel I’m making no effort to hide. It twitches as she gracefully gets to her knees and I have to bite back a moan at seeing her like this, her blonde hair messy and framing her face as she looks up at me in a way I’ve dreamed of a thousand times.

Her big doe eyes dart from my face and down to my dick questioningly.

I swallow deeply but nod, not trusting my voice. She smiles, bringing her hands up to remove the flimsy fabric. My dick bounces to attention at her expression and her eyes widen as it bobs in her face. I push the thought out of my mind that she’s probably done this before, forcing my hand to go to her head, urging her forward.

When her soft lips wrap around the tip, I have to clench my fists to keep from coming right there. I don’t hold back a moan as her mouth envelopes me, warm and inviting. My hand stays on her head as she begins to move, twisting through her hair without thinking.

I’ve touched myself before, but not in a long time and already I can feel something building inside me. My jaw clenches with the will to keep it in, wanting to savor the feel of her mouth on me.

When her hand comes up and moves along with her mouth, it’s too much and I give no warning before releasing, holding my dick deep in her throat. She gags as I empty myself into her throat but doesn’t move until I pull her head back. With my hands threaded in her hair, I raise her eyes to mine, noting how dazed they look. A smile plays on her lips that are still coated with me and I let go of her hair, moving my hand down her cheek.

That was like nothing I could have fucking imagined, and I allow myself to feel real hope. I don’t know how she knew what I needed, knew that it wasn’t about forgiveness as much as power, but I think she does understand. Her willingness to give up her power, even just sexually, speaks volumes.

This is a role I can do. No more fucking slave, but I can sure as fuck be her Master.

“Good girl,” I whisper, and she sighs, leaning her head against me.