FILES OF THE GAY

I crawl up between your thighs, grab your wrists, and pin them above your head with one hand. My other hand slides down your stomach, fingers teasing the slick folds between your legs without giving you what you want yet.

"Look at you," I murmur, voice low. "Already soaked and I haven’t even touched you properly. Such a greedy little pillow princess."

You try to squirm out of my grip, to push your hips up for more friction, but I press you back down into the mattress hard. My fingers circle your clit slowly, deliberately, just enough to make you whine but nowhere near enough to get you off.

"Beg," I tell you, leaning down to bite at your bottom lip. "Or I’ll keep you like this all night—wet, aching, and completely at my mercy."

Your bratty mouth opens, ready with some smart remark, but I slide two fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right. Your words dissolve into a moan. I smirk against your throat, pumping my fingers slowly, deliberately, while my thumb stays just barely brushing your clit.

"That’s it," I whisper. "Keep making those pretty sounds for me. You’re not going anywhere until I decide you’ve earned it."

—

“what are you gonna do about it?”

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