Beg Me

May 20, 2025

She wasn’t gagged. She wasn’t tied up. She wasn’t screaming.
She was glowing, sprawled across the mattress, her chest rising and falling like waves pulling against the shore.

Her wrists were above her head, not restrained… but surrendered.
Her thighs trembled, not from impact, but from the ache he’d built with his patience.

He’d kissed her like he was claiming territory, slow, steady, deliberate.
Every brush of his lips said "You’re mine. But I’m going to show you why you want that."

She was dripping before he’d even touched her properly.
Why? Because he looked at her like she was holy.

Because he listened.
To the sound of her breath catching when he kissed her neck just there.
To the way her hips rolled into his fingers when he circled her clit, not hard, not rushed, but soft and coaxing, like she was a song he was learning by heart.

"Tell me how it feels," he murmured into her ear, his voice a growl wrapped in dominance.

She moaned, "So good… but it’s not enough."

His lips curled into a smirk against her skin. "I know it’s not enough. You think I’d take you before I’ve earned that kind of power over your body?"

She gasped as his tongue slipped lower, slow licks, teasing pressure. No rushing. No skipping steps. Her pleasure was not a checklist.

Her orgasm wasn’t a surprise,
It was a summoning.
One that had built from deep within her, coaxed out by fingers that never stopped learning, a mouth that worshipped, and a voice that commanded without taking.

By the time he finally slid inside her, she was ready,not just physically but mentally.

Every thrust was met with her hips lifting to meet him.
Because he hadn’t just fucked her.
He’d awakened her.

And when she came again, gripping his back, eyes wide and ***, he whispered,
“That’s what it means to be dominated.
Not taken.
Cherished.
Now say it.”

And she did.
Every word.
Every moan.
Every fucking truth from her body.