Ruben squeezed his eyes shut at her words, willing his stampeding pulse to slow and his lust to fade. Just a little bit, until it became something he could handle, something he was used to.

Because right now, his need for Cherry was almost scaring him.

Nothing happened; she lay there, the curve of her hip a breath away from his aching cock, her throat shifting as she swallowed beneath his hand. For all her fucking mouth, she liked this. She liked the power exchange.

“I think I know what you want,” he said softly. “But thinking isn’t good enough. I need to know. And you’re not sure yet. Are you?”

“I… I don’t know. Not exactly. No.” Her voice shook. Not much; the slight waver was almost imperceptible, but he noticed. And, because he was a twisted fuck, he liked it.

“You trust me?”

She hesitated.

He ignored the way that hesitation tore into his heart and clarified. “You know I won’t hurt you? I won’t do anything you don’t want?”

“Yes,” she said, and the certainty in her voice almost soothed the pain in his chest. Almost.

“Good. Then let me tell you what I want.” He dragged his hand away from her throat, down her chest, until he reached the soft mounds of her tits through her thin T-shirt. Her nipples were hard and thick beneath the fabric. He rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, and she arched her back and let out a moan. Ruben’s cock swelled, almost painful now, and he fought not to release a moan of his own.

Couldn’t let her know what she did to him. Not yet.

His voice was calm and steady as he continued. “I want control. I want you to give yourself to me, because you know I’ll look after you. Understand?”

She swallowed. “I’m… I can look after myself.”

“Of course you can,” he soothed. “You always do.” He released her nipple, running his hand slowly down her body. “You look after yourself and everyone else. You’re the smartest person in every room. You’re the most capable person I know. But you don’t have to handle everything.” He savoured the swell of her belly, the soft rise and fall of her flesh, on the way to his ultimate goal.

His palm slid between her legs, cupping her pussy over her underwear, his thumb and little finger grazing the soft skin of her thighs. “I can handle this. I can make you come. I can make you scream.” His fingers explored the cotton gusset of her underwear, the only thing keeping him from what he really wanted.

She was wet. Fucking soaked, the thin fabric damp and sticky. The knowledge made his balls tighten, made his cock ache to sink inside her. “Don’t you get tired of thinking all the time, sweetheart? Of figuring out how everything should go and where everything should be?”

“Yes,” she sighed. Her hips lifted slightly, pumping against his palm.

He growled, pushing her hips against the mattress. “Don’t move. You take what I give you. Understand?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice thick with lust.

He rubbed her slowly through the cotton, let her feel how much he adored her. How much he needed her. When had that happened? He didn’t have time to think about it. “Let me look after you, sweetheart. You don’t have to control everything. Let me do this.” He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

Maybe it was counterintuitive, but Ruben had only ever wanted the submission of women who didn’t need him. Women who could live just fine without him, but didn’t want to. Women for whom handing over the reins was both a relief and a sacrifice. He wanted to own Cherry, because she already owned him. And she didn’t even know it.

Finally, she touched him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, the one trapped between her thighs. She didn’t push him away. She squeezed, as if she wanted more.

He wouldn’t give her more. He wanted to tease her. He wanted her to beg. He wanted to spread her legs and fuck her until they both passed out.

Instead, he said, “Have you ever done this before? Power play?”

“No,” she admitted, her voice low. “But I know the theory.”

That made him smile. “Been researching, love?”

“Of course I have.”

“Good. Let’s talk about it.” He’d meant to go slow, but his control was fraying. She was so fucking sweet, so sharp, and he wanted every piece of her. So he hooked a finger beneath the edge of her underwear, pushed it aside, and dragged his thumb down the hot, slick seam of her pussy.

Jesus fucking Christ, she was wetter than he’d thought. She inhaled sharply at his touch, her fingers tightening around his wrist. He’d be surprised if she didn’t cut off his circulation. He should tell her to let go, tell her exactly where to put her hands, but something about her—about the unexpected innocence beneath all her knowing smiles and those swaying hips—got him harder than control alone. So he let her cling to him as he explored the silken folds of her cunt, spreading her wetness around.

“I like control,” he said, his voice slightly raw. “I like rough sex. I don’t want to accept your submission. I want to work for it.” He hesitated. Forced himself to continue, because truth mattered. “I want to take it. Oh, and I have an oral fetish. You understand?”

“Yes,” she gasped. But she didn’t move. If it weren’t for the way her voice unravelled on that single word, he wouldn’t even know that she was falling apart.

Suddenly he wanted, more than anything, to see her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gently.

She said, “I want you to fuck me.”

“No.” He dragged his thumb up to the swollen nub of her clit. “You have to tell me what you like. And you have to tell me your safe word. Just in case.” He hovered over her clit, waiting for her to push up, into him, to force the pressure he knew she wanted. To misbehave.

“I, um… I want you to be in charge.”

“I’m always in charge, Cherry. You know that.”

Despite her claim, she responded with sharp defiance. “I certainly do not.”

“Watch it, sweetheart.” His voice was hard, and he felt her shiver. “Now tell me your safe word.”

“Milkshake.”

“Catchy.”

“Shut up.”

He lifted his palm and brought it down against her mound, firm rather than hard. Her hips jerked up as she released a low moan, her nails digging into his wrist.

He kept his voice mild as he said, “Hard limits?”

“Um…” She was panting now. “No serious pain. Just a little bit.”

He couldn’t help himself. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, finding her effortlessly now, even in the dark. “I won’t hurt you, love.”

“Well,” she said. “A little bit.”

Smiling, he spanked her pussy again. She yelped, arching into him.

“Cherry,” he said softly. “That’s the second time you’ve moved without permission. What do you say?”

“You can’t touch me and expect me to—”

Ruben pushed his middle finger into her cunt, as deep as he could go. Holy shit, she was tight, and soft and wet and hotter than fucking hell. Her walls clung to him, tightened and released around that single digit as she hissed, “Oh my fucking God, yes.”

“You like that, love?” He thrust back and forth, feeling her open up around him. “Is that what it takes to keep your pretty mouth shut? I just have to fill up your cunt?”

“Fuck you,” she panted, a smile in her voice.

He found the line of her throat with his lips, then bit. She gasped, and he bit harder, fucked her faster, turned one finger into two and then three as she spread her legs for him.

“Good girl,” he whispered, releasing her neck. His tongue laved the bite mark he’d left, feeling the slight indents in her skin. He didn’t think it would bruise, but some dark, possessive part of him hoped it might. He pulled his fingers from her pussy and she whined, rolling her hips. “Shhh,” he murmured. “I’ll look after you. Remember?”

“Yes,” she whispered into the dark. His heart swelled almost as much as his cock. God, he wanted to see her. He wanted to see her so badly.

“Let me turn the light on, Cherry.”

“No,” she said, her tone slightly panicked. “No. I’ll… Not yet. Please—”

“Okay. It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth, until she grew silent and still and the air between them calmed again. “Don’t worry. What’s your safe word?”

“Milkshake,” she said immediately.

“Good. Remember to use it. For anything. I mean that. Anything at all.”

“Right,” she whispered. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry. “

“Okay.” Her hand came up to feather across his jaw, and just that touch brought him to the edge of desperation. Touching her was one thing. But having her touch him? The fact that she wanted him? That she wanted him enough to give him everything, including the control she held so tight to her chest? He could come right now.

Then she reached down and grabbed his hand, dragged it up to her lips, and sucked his fingers into her mouth. And Ruben almost did come.

Her hot tongue slid across his skin, licking him clean, licking her own fucking juices. Christ, her mouth, her lips, so full and lush and soft, and the pull of each firm suck, almost savage…. He hadn’t meant to, not tonight, but Ruben had to pull his cock out of his pyjamas and squeeze, hard, right at the base. She released his fingers with a pop and he said, his voice a ghost, “Good girl. Fuck, good girl.”

“Oral fetish, hm?”

Ruben laughed, but the sound was rough and broken. “Oral fetish as in, if I get my mouth on your cunt right now, I’ll come.”

“You mean—”

“I mean I’ll come. Immediately. You’re too fucking perfect. Shit, come here.” He rolled on top of her, and she widened her legs almost automatically, her body flowering for him. Because she wanted him. This woman wanted him. Her T-shirt had ridden up, so the soft skin of her belly pressed against his naked dick, and Ruben hissed through his teeth. He thrust against her, smearing his pre-cum over her skin, and she fisted a hand in his hair and kissed him.

He would never be the same.