The door clicked shut behind me, the lock snapping into place with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to face you—Fred—leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that damn smirk playing on your lips. The leather collar around your neck glinted under the harsh bathroom light, a silent promise of what was to come.
"You know the rules," you said, your voice low and rough, like gravel under bare feet. "On your knees, Sofia."
My pulse quickened, my nipples hardening against the thin fabric of my dress. I swallowed hard, my throat dry with anticipation. "Yes, Sir," I whispered, the words tasting like sin on my tongue.
I sank to my knees, the cool tile biting into my skin through the thin material of my dress. It rode up my thighs, baring more of my legs than I usually dared to show, but I knew you liked it when I obeyed without hesitation. Your boots—polished black leather—stepped into my line of sight. You tilted my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to look at you.
"Look at you," you murmured, dragging your thumb over my bottom lip. "So fucking eager."
I parted my lips just enough to flick my tongue against your thumb, tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes darkened, and I knew I had you right where I wanted you.
"Take it off," you ordered, nodding toward my dress.
I didn’t hesitate. I reached behind my neck, unzipping the back of the dress with slow deliberation, letting the fabric slither down my body until it pooled at my feet. I was bare beneath it—no bra, no panties, just my skin, flushed and hungry for your touch. Your gaze raked over me, lingering on my hard nipples, the slick heat between my thighs.
"Fuck," you breathed, your voice rough with desire. "You’re dripping already."
I bit my lip, arching my back slightly, offering myself to you. "Only for you, Sir."
You chuckled, low and dark, before crouching in front of me. Your fingers trailed up my inner thigh, teasingly slow, making me squirm. "Beg for it."
"Please," I gasped, my voice trembling. "Touch me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want—I’m yours."
You smirked, your hand finally closing over my pussy, your fingers sliding through my arousal. I moaned, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Good girl," you murmured, before pressing two fingers inside me, curling them just right to make my vision blur.
I cried out, my nails digging into your shoulders as you worked me with slow, deliberate strokes. "That’s it," you growled. "Take it. Take *me*."
I was a mess beneath your touch, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my body trembling on the edge. You pulled your fingers free, glistening with my arousal, and held them up to my lips. "Clean them."
I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my lips around your fingers, sucking them clean, tasting myself on your skin. Your cock twitched in your pants, and I knew you were as close to losing control as I was.
"On your hands and knees," you commanded, your voice thick with need.
I obeyed instantly, presenting myself to you, my ass high in the air, my pussy glistening and ready. You didn’t make me wait. The sound of your belt unbuckling sent a jolt of desire straight to my core, and then—oh God—then you were there, your cock pressing against my entrance, thick and heavy and *so fucking perfect*.
You didn’t go slow. You slammed into me in one brutal thrust, filling me completely, and I screamed, my fingers curling into the tile as you set a punishing pace. Each snap of your hips drove me closer to the edge, my body clenching around you, my moans echoing off the bathroom tiles.
"Fuck, you feel *amazing*," you grunted, your hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "So tight. So *mine*."
"Yes!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "Fuck me harder, Sir. Please—I need it."
You did. You fucked me like you owned me, like you were branding me from the inside out. My body was yours to use, to claim, and I *loved* it. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter, until I was nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess beneath you.
"Come for me," you ordered, your voice a dark command. "Now."
And I obeyed.
I came with a scream, my pussy clenching around you so hard you groaned, your own release following mine in a hot, thick rush. You buried yourself deep, filling me with every last drop, before collapsing on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then you pressed a kiss to my shoulder, your breath warm against my skin.
"Still think you can handle me?" you murmured, your voice smug.
I laughed breathlessly, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. "Oh, Sir," I purred, wiggling my ass against your softening cock. "I think you just proved *you* can’t handle *me*."
You barked out a laugh, pulling out of me with a wet *pop* before hauling me up into your arms. "Careful, Sofia," you warned, your mouth hovering just above mine. "You’re playing with fire."
I grinned, nipping at your bottom lip. "I *love* the burn."
And as you kissed me again, deep and dirty and *so fucking perfect*, I knew this wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.