Chapter 167
I sink to my knees before him, reaching up to unbuckle his pants, but Wake grabs my wrists, gently drawing them down to my lap. His voice is low, commanding. "Keep your hands there."
A shiver runs through me, but I obey, folding my hands in my lap and looking up at him with wide, eager eyes. His smile is soft, filled with both affection and desire, and I can barely breathe.
He undoes his pants, revealing his hard cock, the tip already slick with anticipation. "Open your mouth, Phoebe."
I obey without hesitation, and he slides into my mouth slowly, the feeling of him stretching me, pushing deeper until I’m fully taking him. I lose all control, my only job now to serve him, to please him as he moves at his own pace, his hands gently tangled in my hair.
He increases his rhythm, thrusting deeper, harder, and I can’t help but swallow around him, my body trembling with every shift. The sensation of being used, of being entirely at his mercy, fills me with an intoxicating pleasure.
When he pulls away, I gasp for air, my heart racing.
"Strip. I want to see you."
I rise unsteadily to my feet, letting the towel fall from my body, revealing myself completely.
"Lie on the bed. Let me look at you."
My pulse quickens, but I move, a nervous excitement bubbling inside me. "What will you do?"
He raises an eyebrow, his voice almost teasing. "What do you want me to do?"
"Anything you want," I whisper, my breath shaky with longing.
"Good." He gently places my hands above my head, securing them there. "Don’t move until I say."
My body trembles with anticipation as his hands begin their slow exploration. His fingers trace the curves of my chest, my belly, and then slip lower, brushing the sensitive skin of my thighs. He lifts my ankle, pressing a soft kiss to the bottom of my foot, sending a jolt of sensation through me.
"You’re mine," he murmurs.
"Yes," I breathe.
His hands continue their journey up my legs, coaxing my thighs apart. I can barely hold still, the need building inside me like a storm. He kisses my leg, moving slowly, torturously upward, until he reaches the junction of my thighs and switches to the other leg.
I can feel myself trembling, my breath coming in ragged pants. His eyes never leave mine, as if he’s savoring every moment of my vulnerability. "Mine," he repeats.
"Yours," I answer, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He flicks his tongue along my inner thigh, just barely brushing the skin, and I whimper at the teasing sensation. The desire inside me is almost unbearable now, and I can hardly think straight.
"What do you want?" His voice is dark, inviting, knowing.
I want him to touch me. I want to feel him everywhere. I want to lose myself in him.
"I…" My voice falters, lost in the wave of need consuming me.
He smiles, continuing his slow, deliberate teasing, his fingers dancing lightly over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Each touch sends a tremor through me, each kiss deeper, more intense than the last. When he nips at the soft skin of my hip, I let out a strangled sob.
"Ask for it, Phoebe. What do you want?"
"Touch me. Please, Wake, touch me."
Without a word, he stands, his gaze turning cold. "No."
I freeze, confused. "No?"
"Touch yourself."
I hesitate, the request confusing and arousing at the same time. His hand comes down sharply on my thigh, making me gasp. "I won’t ask again."
My cheeks burn with humiliation, but I comply, slipping one hand between my legs, finding the wet heat of my own desire. My breath hitches as I begin to move, my fingers sliding with ease, the pressure building within me.
"Good," he whispers, his voice heavy with approval. "That’s my girl. Show me what you like."
The words make me shudder. My fingers work faster, circling my clit, desperate for release. My hips rise instinctively, trying to find something to press against, but I am helpless, bound by his commands.
"Faster."
I obey, my body moving in time with my own touch, but the need for him is overwhelming. I can hear his voice, dark and velvet-smooth, urging me on.
"That’s it. So eager, so wet. Is it my cock you want? Or are you satisfied with your fingers?"
A sharp slap on the other thigh makes me gasp, the sensation jolting through me. I whimper in response, my body aching for him.
"You are mine," he growls, his voice full of dominance. "Mine to take, to tease. Does that excite you? Does it fill you with relief?"
Tears blur my vision. The combination of pleasure and control is maddening. "Please," I whisper, the need inside me almost unbearable.
He watches me with an intensity that takes my breath away. "I’ll give you what you need. But only when I say."
The words are like a brand, searing themselves into my mind. I nod, unable to form anything more.
He stands, his hands falling away from me, leaving me aching, empty, desperate for him. I watch as he undresses, his body perfectly sculpted, each movement deliberate, controlled. His cock stands tall and proud, and my body reacts involuntarily, hunger flaring within me.
"Open your eyes, Phoebe."
I do as he says, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes are dark, intense, predatory. "Watch."
And then, before I can react, his mouth descends on me, hot and demanding. His tongue dances over my skin, tasting, exploring, driving me crazy with desire.
"Please, Wake."
His laughter is deep and filled with satisfaction. "Not yet."
I’m panting now, unable to do anything but take what he gives me, my body shaking with need. I am desperate for release, but I am not allowed to have it yet.
Finally, he moves above me, positioning himself at my entrance. He looks at me one last time. "You won’t look away. Do you understand?"
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest as he slowly pushes inside, stretching me, filling me completely. His eyes never leave mine, watching me carefully, the control he has over me undeniable.
"Beg for it."
"Please, Wake. Please."
"Say it again."
"Please… Wake."
He grins, a dark, satisfied smile playing on his lips. Then, without another word, he thrusts into me, hard, and I gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, both painful and exquisite, and I give myself over to him completely.
He moves with purpose, relentless, never giving me a moment to adjust, until all I can do is accept it, take it. Every thrust drives me closer to the edge, every movement making me lose myself in him. I am his, and the thought sends me spiraling into ecstasy.
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