You’re the picture of innocence. Sweet, shy, the kind of girl who avoids being the center of attention, your cheeks always flushing when someone calls your name. To everyone else, you’re quiet, reserved, the one who sits on the edge of a crowd, blending in effortlessly.
I see the way you try to shrink into yourself, biting your lip as if that will keep you from trembling under my gaze. I see the way your thighs press together when I get too close, the faint hitch in your breath when I lean down, my voice low and deliberate, just for you. “Look at you,” I murmur, my lips brushing just over your ear, sending a shiver racing through you. “So sweet, so shy, but deep down, you love the way I make you squirm, don’t you?”
Your cheeks are burning now, your lips trembling as you try to form a response, but I don’t give you the chance. My fingers find your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to meet my eyes. “Answer me,” I growl softly, my thumb brushing over your bottom lip, teasing it, feeling the way you shake beneath my touch. “Tell me how much you love it when I take away all that control you pretend to have.”
You try to look away, but I tighten my grip just slightly, my fingers firm but not cruel, holding you exactly where I want you. “Don’t hide from me, baby,” I murmur, my tone laced with command. “I know the truth. I know how much you crave this—how much you love it when I don’t give you a choice.”
I slide my hand down, over the curve of your neck, my thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling it race beneath my touch. “You can act shy all you want,” I whisper, my lips ghosting over your jawline, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down to the hollow of your throat. “But your body doesn’t lie. Look at how it responds to me, how it trembles, how it gives me everything I want.”
You let out a soft whimper, your voice breaking as I press you back, my hands finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between us. My lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, sucking lightly, leaving a mark that blooms instantly against your skin. “That’s it,” I growl, my voice rough, possessive. “Good girl. Let me hear those pretty little sounds you try so hard to hide.”
You try to push back, to hold onto some semblance of control, but I can feel the way you’re melting, the way your body is betraying you with every tremble, every gasp. I slide my hand lower, gripping your hip firmly, my fingers pressing into your skin as my other hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back just enough to expose your throat to me.
“You don’t have to say it,” I murmur, my voice dripping with confidence as my lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Your body’s already telling me everything I need to know. You love this, baby. You love how helpless I make you feel, how every little sound you make belongs to me.”
Your breaths come faster now, your chest rising and falling against mine, your hands clutching at my shirt, desperate to hold onto something. I smirk, leaning back just enough to catch your gaze, my thumb brushing over the mark I’ve left on your skin. “Look at you,” I murmur, my tone soft but unrelenting. “Such a beautiful mess, trembling, blushing, squirming. All for me.”
Your voice finally breaks, a soft, needy moan that sends a surge of satisfaction through me. “That’s my good girl,” I whisper, my hands sliding up to cradle your face, my lips hovering just above yours. “Completely mine, aren’t you?”
And when your lips part, when your shaky breath confirms everything I already know, I kiss you, deep and unrelenting, pouring every ounce of control and possession into you until there’s nothing left but us.
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