You’d only had sex with Sylus a handful of times, all of it slow and reverent. After everything you had both been through, all of the tension and strain, he was terrified… not that he’d ever admit it. Even when you were gentle with unveiling your desires, giving him that soft smile, he wouldn’t indulge. Not the way you knew he wanted.
It was only when you sank to your knees before him, peering up with that heavy-lidded gaze, sweeping your hair back… that was when he broke.
“What do you want, Sy?” You’d whisper innocently, all while your palms would glide up the muscles of his thighs, fingers coming to toy with his waistband.
He’d let out that breathy sigh, the one that indicated he was going to cave. The sound of it was undeniably weak of him, which you knew was the greatest tribute of trust.
Even on the edge of your victory, so, so close… Sylus wouldn’t ask. He never did. He always allowed you to set the limits.
But that’s ok… You were more than content to verbalise his desire for him.
‘From the moment I met you, you’ve always taken what you want,” you murmured, tugging his pants down to free his aching cock. “Until it comes to this,” you ran your tongue along his length, grinning as he threw his head back with a groan.
“Let me reassure you.” Your voice was soft, and as you swirled around his tip with your tongue, you took him as far as you could go in your mouth. Sylus was gone, sinking back into his leather chair, eyes clenched shut with bliss.
Coming back up with a quiet pop, he glanced down at you, and you gave him a smoldering look. “You can take what you want from me, Sy. Your desire… is mine.”
If he was going to speak, you certainly ruined his train of thought. You forced him down to the back of your throat, the thick girth of him stretching you wide. Setting a nasty pace, you couldn't deny your whimpers and whines any longer. The feel of him against your tongue, the taste of him, and by god those groans… it made you feral. It never took long for your panties to grow damp, clinging to you most unbearably. You clenched around nothing, but your suffering was worth every second.
“Ahh… fuck! Easy, kitten…” Sylus panted, and yet his burning gaze was locked onto you.
When your jaw began to cramp and your gag reflex hit its limit, you wrapped your hands around his base, flicking your tongue beneath his tip.
“Take your shirt off,” he rasped, breathless and burning.
You grinned, rebellious. “Not tonight.”
“I'm not asking,” he snapped, his warm palm cupping your cheek.
Your breath stuttered as he dragged your gaze to meet him. His right eye was ablaze, a crimson star.
Sylus leaned in, fingertips tracing the outline of your lips. “If you tell me I can take,” he said with no reservation. “Then I think I might finally oblige in such an offer. Now, take your clothes off.”
