Page 38 of Ravage

I trail a finger down her spine, light enough that it doesn't wake her but makes her shiver.

Another moan, muffled by the pillow.

Her hips push back, seeking more.

"Even asleep, you're desperate for it," I murmur.

I spread her legs carefully, revealing how wet she is.

Her pussy is swollen from last night's use, pink and glistening.

The sight makes me painfully hard.

I lean down and breathe on her heated flesh, watching her unconscious response.

Then I lick her, one long stroke from clit to ass, tasting myself on her, in her.

She wakes with a gasp, hands flying back to grab at me, but I pin them to her lower back with one hand.

"Don't move."

She freezes except for her trembling.

I continue my exploration, working her with my tongue until she's sobbing into the pillow, begging incoherently.

I build her up slowly, methodically, until she's right on the edge—then pull away.

"No," she whimpers. "Please, I need?—"

"Shower. Get cleaned up. You have twenty minutes."

I release her wrists and step back.

She turns to look at me, hair wild, eyes desperate.

The look she gives me is half frustration, half worship.

Perfect.

"But I'm so close?—"

"Twenty minutes. Don't touch yourself, or you won't come at all today."

She scrambles off the bed and rushes to the bathroom.

I hear the shower start immediately.

While she cleans herself, I prepare for the day.

She doesn't know it yet, but today is when I truly claim her.

Not just her body—that's already mine.

Today I claim her mind, her identity, her future.

I select what she'll wear.

Not clothes—she won't need those yet.