#sub!henry

Henry felt just as shy as he felt stressed out, but she smiled at him, sitting comfortably on the overstuffed, plush and black couch, her shirt already off, exposing the lavender colored, lace bra that cradled her heavy breasts. He licked his lips as he stared at them in that garment, making her grin at him even more, her eyes sparkling, mischievously.

“Well?” She whispered, softly.

His eyes flickered to hers, his cheeks tinting as his previous shyness recalled why he was there, a bashful smirk pulling across his lips. Clearing his throat, Henry toed off his shoes, neatly tucking them underneath the black glass coffee table that separated the two of them, before removing the jacket he was wearing, eyes darting around. She lifted an index finger, pointing to the arm of a matching love seat that was next to Henry, indicating he could drape his jacket there.

Nodding his thanks, Henry did so, leaving himself in a casual black t-shirt, that stretched over his broad chest and back, and the thick muscles of his biceps, with a pair of loose black joggers, that rode low on his chiseled hips, ending with a pair of black and deep red socks. She had instructed him, when they spoke on the phone two hours before, not to worry about his wardrobe, that his utmost comfort was all that mattered during their session together, and he had apparently listened to her. He looked comfortable in his outfit, even though he was acting very shy and slightly uncomfortable for being in the situation, having never acted out this fantasy of his before, but he had heard from a reliable friend that she was the best person to live the fantasy out with and that she could be trusted not to out it.

“What now?” Henry asked, meeting her eye.

“That move is on you.” She replied, smooth and calmly. “I am just the vessel of your want, how you wish to go about it, is upon you.” She elaborated; her eyes were soft as she returned his gaze.

“I've never done this before.” He admitted.

The amused smile from before reappeared on her lips. “Maybe not this specifically, but I get the feeling you've done something similar.” She countered his confession, knowing one of her own, when she saw one.

Henry chuckled, the color on his cheeks deepening. “Touche.” He smirked, then cleared his throat. “I'll repair my statement, then. I've never acted out this particular fantasy before, in accuracy.” He said, his eyes glancing at the room they were in.

“You've never had anyone produce for you before.” She furthered his statement.

“Correct.” He nodded, eyes shifting back.

“Well,” She said, drawing in a slow breath. “The easiest first thing to do is to come and get comfortable.” She told him, gently patting the couch cushion beside her.

Henry gulped and nodded his head, stepping around the coffee table and approached the couch, his step faltering for a moment, when he reached it and her, before he sat down beside her. She smiled sweetly at him, keeping herself relaxed, so it would help keep Henry at ease. Now that he was so close to her, Henry felt the warmth of her body and the scent of her perfume wafting off of her, making him lean slightly forward, eyes falling shut, to take a deep breath of it and moaned at the pleasant and pleasing smell as it filled his nostrils and senses.

“You smell so good.” He murmured, involuntarily.

“Sunflowers by Elizabeth Arden.” She replied, casually. “Bit of a pain to find nowadays.” She said, offhandedly.

“I like it.” Henry said, opening his eyes again.

“Thank you.” She chuckled, grinning at him. “You smell pretty fantastic yourself.”

Henry blushed, glancing away, but she reached out and gently cupped his cheek, rubbing the tip of her thumb over his full bottom lip, their eyes gravitating back to each other; the tip of Henry's tongue darted out and flicking at her thumb, but imaging it was something else entirely. The sound of a growl filled the quiet room, making her smirk into Henry's blue eyes.

“Someone's a hungry boy.” She chuckled, feeling the heat of Henry's cheek increase against her palm.

“I skipped one of my protein shakes, which I usually don't.” Henry explained, out of shy nervousness. “I suppose after more than ten years, my stomach is trained.” He chuckled, with a boyish smile.

She giggled back, amused. “Would you like to satisfy that hungry tummy then?” She asked, softly.

“I greatly would.” He nodded, even though his stomach was full with butterflies.

She sat back against the cushion behind her, giving Henry space to why he had come to her home, to why his stomach was growling and her shirt was off. Henry bit his lip, his eyes back on her lavender bra, on her breasts swelling inside the fabric and how heavy they looked, which only made his mouth water even more, knowing what made them so hefty. But, he froze again, unsure how he was meant to go at them. She saw his uncertainty and reached out to the other side of the couch and grabbed a pillow that was there and situated it in her lap, giving Henry the hint and prompt that he needed, to turn and scoot, so he could lay back, having his head on the pillow and cradled in her lap.

“Comfy?” She cooed at him, sweetly.

“Mmhm.” Henry nodded, feeling himself starting to relax and his nerves melt away.

“Good.” She smiled, tenderly brushing her fingertips through the wild curls at his forehead with one hand, while reaching up with her other hand, to a clasp on her bra strap and unhooked it, revealing it to be a nursing bra.

Henry's eyes grew wide as her breast came free from her bra, dropping lower without the support, the dark purple nipple level with his eyes as he turned his head to look at it, licking his lips. She smiled down at him, seeing Henry go practically cross-eyed at the sight of her breast, heavy with milk. She gently ran her fingers through the hair at the side of his head and massaged the back of his neck, feeling the tense and tight muscles and tendons there, and understood part of why Henry had come to her, to fulfill this fantasy of his, he needed to relax, and apparently had been so stressed out and tense, he was willing to try this, to relieve it.

“It's all yours.” She purred at him, her voice silky soft, wanting to help him relax.

Henry looked up at her, his eyes were full of lust, hunger and something else, something smaller, yet not in size, like a little boy that desperately needed to be comforted and loved, that made her rest her other hand on his large chest and felt his heart steadily beating beneath her palm, then gently started massaging.

“Go on, sweet boy.” She whispered, encouraging him, head tilting as she stared into his eyes. “Can't keep that hungry tummy waiting.” She coaxed him, smiling and caressing the side of his face.

He sighed and became heavier in her lap, before turning his head back towards her exposed breast, just as a thick and creamy bead appeared from it, he brushed his lips against her sensitive and darkened nipple, eliciting a deep moan from her, his eyes going back to hers.

“Don't worry about me.” She reassured him, rubbing the back of his head with her palm, glancing up at the clock across the room from them. “You called rather early, so I haven't pumped them this morning, and they're very full and very sensitive.”

“Mmm.” Henry hummed, understanding, and shifted his eyes back to their target, but was gentle when his lips touched her breast again, delicately sucking her dripping areola into his mouth, and moaned loudly as the fresh droplets touched his tongue.

She moaned with relief as Henry took the first real suckle, filling his mouth with her milk and giving her a teeny bit of reprieve from the pain and pressure of being so full. She took a deep breath, as Henry started to steadily nurse, and let it out slowly, caressing his hair and rubbing his chest, soothing him to stay relaxed, feeling the muscles at the back of his neck and shoulders were no longer as tense as they had been, when he first laid his head in her lap, which made her happy. She chuckled, hearing the slurp of Henry's sucking, and looked down at him, seeing him going to town on her breast, while still being very considerate about the still lingering soreness.

Henry lifted his hand, cupping the underneath of her breast and moaned again, as the sweet and heavenly liquid continued to fill his mouth over and over again, He felt like a man that had found a lake, after being lost in a desert for a long period of time; her milk quenching his thirst and fantasy better than any liquid could. It was sweet and creamy, but thinner than water, he thought, holding a mouthful of it for a moment, swirling his tongue around to try and analyze and learn as much about it as he could, before finally swallowing it down.

He didn't want it to end, but ten minutes after the first mouthful, her flow stopped, no more milk filled his mouth, much to his sorrow.

“You drained that, like a champ.” She praised him, smiling, her warm fingertips gliding through the thick hair on his cheek, then tenderly wiped her thumb across his lips as he turned his head to look up at her, chuckling as Henry's tongue unconsciously darted out to lick at it. “You want the other one, don't you?” She cooed at him, her eyes sparkling, before reaching up to unclasp the other side of her bra.

But Henry's hand reached up and closed around hers.

She looked down at him, seeing his pupils dilate and his Adam's apple bob in his throat, then understood and let go of the clasp, allowing Henry to take the clasp between his thumb and index finger and carefully unhooked it for her, before shifting himself up more in her lap and latch onto her fresh breast, his blue eyes fluttering shut as he sighed contently through his nose. This time, Henry suckled slowly, fully enjoying that breast's complete supply of milk. She smiled at him, still rubbing and caressing him, while feeling his breathing start to change against her skin, and knew at any moment, Henry was going to fall asleep, right there, in her lap, latched onto her mostly full breast, in her living room.

And, she let him.

With some careful wiggling, she was able to get up from under Henry, his heavy head cradled in her hand as she bent over him, slipping the pillow that had been in her lap, back under his head and grabbing a throw blanket off the back of a recliner, to lay over him.

“Sshh.” She cooed at him, caressing his hair as he fussed for a moment, then relaxed again.

Letting out a quiet and huffing sigh, she straightened up, before going upstairs to her master bathroom, gently running a washcloth under faucet of warm water and wiped her breasts with it, then removed a pod-like device from one of the drawers in the vanity, with an almost donut shaped bag. She fitted the bag inside the pod, before holding it to her half-full breast and pressed a button on the front of the device, which came silently to life, suctioning to her skin and began pumping the remaining milk from it and into the bag, then went back downstairs, to make herself a cup of tea and await for Henry to wake from his nursing induced nap.

None of this was out of the ordinary for her, many of the clients she breastfed had a tendency to fall asleep, while or after they nursed. Something about it for them, just the same for an infant, was calming and safe, and it was apparently the same for Henry. But, she could plainly see it was something Henry clearly needed, her hands remembering the level of tension in his body as she touched him. He was so tight and strung up, as if he hadn't relaxed in such a long time.

The stress that must be humming through that god-like body.

She couldn't fathom.

Henry woke up with a start, nearly falling off of the couch in the process.

“Hello, sleepy beauty.” She smiled, setting her second cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her, as she sat in the recliner. “Did you have a nice nap?” She asked, looking over at him.

“Uh...” Henry floundered, correcting himself on the couch, and passing a hand through his disheveled curls, before looking at the expensive watch on his wrist. “Jesus Christ, how long have I been out?” He asked, looking over at her, alarmed.

“Oh, an hour and a half.” She replied, looking up at the clock on her living room wall.

“Oh, god.” Henry gasped, getting to his feet. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have.”

“Henry, it's perfectly all right.” She tried to reassure him, kindly. “You needed to sleep, apparently. Seems you need to sleep more.” She added, offhandedly.

“I get eight hours a night.” Henry replied, retrieving his shoes from under the coffee table.

“Just because you get eight hours, doesn't mean you get sleep.” She pointed out to his back, tilting her head, her eyes holding concern, concern she usually tried to keep a handle on.

“I'm fine.” He snapped, yanking on his jacket.

“Of course.” She nodded, standing up and going into the kitchen, grabbing something from the refrigerator and catching Henry at the door. “You left some.” She said, her voice was soft, but held no judgment or other emotion to them, as she held out the small bag of leftover milk.

Henry looked down at it, as she held it out to him, his eyes were startled, but his lips twitched with appreciation and want. “Thank you.” He whispered, taking it from her, and carefully hiding it in his pocket.

“It'll keep for eight hours at room temperature, a week in the refrigerator and roughly six months in the freezer, if you store it in the far back, away from the door.” She instructed him, opening her front door to let him out. “If you need me for anything else, Mr. Cavill. You have my number.” She added, with a professional and hospitable tone.

No sooner had he pulled into the garage than she was unbuckling her seat belt and climbing on top of him, hiking up her skirt so that she could straddle his legs. Her hands were everywhere and she was grinding down hard, making his head swim. She kissed him roughly, then moved to his neck when he broke off for air. “Maybe... maybe we should take this upstairs,” Henry panted, doing his best to sound seductive while secretly hoping she’d agree to go inside, which would give him a chance to collect himself.

She pulled back and stared at him, her expression unreadable. In his peripherals Henry saw her fingers wrap slowly around the car door handle. She opened it and wordlessly slipped off his lap and out the door, turning to look back at him with a sultry glance as she walked into the house. Henry felt yet another familiar twitch below and sent a silent thanks upward for this vixen he got to call his, taking a deep breath before scrambling to undo his seatbelt and follow her inside.

He found her standing in the bedroom, stripped down to her underwear (though she’d left her heels on). Henry gave a throaty groan of approval at her attire, removing his shirt and stepping towards her and the bed. She placed her hand flat on his chest to stop him and shook her head briefly, looking over at the corner. He turned to look and discovered she had brought one of the kitchen chairs up with her. Henry looked back at her with suspicion, eyebrow raised.

At his hesitation, Henry’s girlfriend kissed him again and pushed him backwards towards the chair, undoing the button and zipper on his pants at the same time. She stepped away and motioned for him to continue which he obeyed quickly, removing the rest of his clothes while she disappeared into the bathroom. Her silence was driving him crazy, but in a very good way. She knew him well.

Henry sat down in the chair, hissing a little as the cold wood met his bare flesh. He heard his girlfriend come back into the room but before he could turn to look at her something soft was slipped over his eyes. Holy shit, he thought to himself, feeling himself grow even harder at the idea of not being able to see. Once the blindfold was secured, he felt open-mouthed kisses trail from over the blindfold on his temple down to the pulse point in his neck. His girlfriend’s hands slid down his arms at the same time, pulling them behind the chair. “Bloody hell, woman,” he breathed, fighting his arousal as she looped what felt like rope around his arms, cinching them tight from his wrists to his elbows. “What are you planning to do to me?”

Henry got no response, which he expected. His back and shoulders were flush against the back of the chair while his arms were wrapped around it, and while he was slouching he couldn’t really bend forward, so his hips slipped a little towards the front of the seat. He felt a hand slide down his chest to his right leg, where another rope was used to anchor it to the chair, once at the knee and once at the ankle. The same was repeated on the other side, just as tightly and peppered with kisses. Henry suddenly felt very vulnerable. He tried testing the restraints and found that he could move very little. He made a mental note to later ask his girlfriend how she got so good at tying people up. She sat sideways on his lap now and kissed him again, but every time he tried to deepen it she would pull away. The woman had complete control over him, and he loved it. She stood up and walked away, and he was left to wait.

Adrenaline and excitement coursed through Henry as he waited for what was next. He didn’t know how much time had passed since his girlfriend had kissed him but it was far too much time for his taste, and he had no idea if she was even still in the room. “You still there, Fireball?” He called out in a husky tone, using her nickname in the hope for a reply. He heard a soft moan, and turned his head toward the bed. Another breathy moan came from that direction, and then a gasp. Henry focused and heard the squelch of wet flesh being repeatedly exposed. Realization struck him: she was masturbating. “You bloody minx,” he exclaimed, arousal dripping from his voice as he listened to her get herself off at the sight of him tied up. He couldn’t touch her, and why that made him more excited he had no idea, he only knew it did. A throaty gasp left his girlfriend as her release hit her, then once again there was silence. Henry waited impatiently.

After a few more agonizing minutes, just when he began to assume that she had left him alone, Henry felt something soft brush against his erection. He cried out in surprise, then again in pleasure as whatever it was did it a second time. Slowly at first, the soft object would repeat its motion. Down, then up, then down and up again. It alternated sides, swiped through the slit of his head and down towards his base, always catching him off guard and never revealing any kind of pattern.

All at once, he realized what she had done. “Oh god,” he breathed, connecting the dots in his head. He’d been had. The whole night so far had been a ruse to get him here, where he couldn’t escape. The silence, the urgent kisses, grabbing at him under the table at dinner, even jumping him in the car. She’d used everything he liked and she’d played him like a fiddle. See, Henry’s girlfriend loved to tease, but whenever she would tease him like this during sex he would always get too frustrated and end up flipping her over, having his way with her before she was finished playing. This way, she had Henry completely at her mercy. The touch hadn’t stopped, and he growled in frustration as he tried to pull back from it, held still by the rope.

The object (he assumed a feather) disappeared, and Henry was left alone again, panting, his erection pulsing in anger at the lack of friction. He tried to steel himself mentally, knowing that it was only going to get worse and that this time he couldn’t take control and distract his girlfriend. He wasn’t wrong.

Fingertips replaced the feather and with the lightest touch traced the outline the feather had left. Henry grunted and threw his head back, trying to ignore the sensations. Every time his girlfriend stroked down she would get closer and closer to his balls. His breath would hitch and his body would try in vain to get up from the chair, which he knew was only egging her on. At random intervals, she would grab his shaft firmly and pump a couple of times, only to release him and go back to the slow, light torture of her fingertips. “Christ, love, that’s not fair!” Henry barked at her, head coming back up, chin against his chest. Once she finally reached his base, she went back to the top and started the process all over again. He knew she was grinning, and he hated and loved it at the same time.

Four more times she started over. Henry was panting heavily by the time she was done, every now and then pleading with her or throwing a curse her way. His balls were aching to be touched and he was leaking, which didn’t help his cause. Every time he did his girlfriend would lick it up, making him gasp in pleasure. She never kept her tongue on him long though, only enough to leave him wanting more.

After the fifth time Henry felt his girlfriend’s fingers travel finally, FINALLY to his balls, but she didn’t move them, she just held them against his skin. Anytime he’d push to gain more pressure, she’d remove her fingertips and he would be left with nothing. Henry writhed in agony, so turned on by her power that he could barely think. “Fuck, you bitch, would you just fucking do something already?” He growled at her, trying to make her mad enough to give him something, anything. Her hands left his body and he heard her heels clack against the floor in the hallway, leaving him alone.

Henry cursed himself, and tested his bonds again. They held firm. I really am going to have to ask her how to do that, he thought again, smirking at his predicament. He knew it didn’t show but he was actually enjoying being pushed to his limits, which surprised him. He might have to give her more opportunities to do this. He heard his girlfriend back in the hallway and braced himself, wondering what she was going to do.

His girlfriend came back into the room and Henry felt her fingers tilt his chin up. He was expecting to be punished for calling her a bitch, so it surprised him when she kissed him fully, giving his upper lip a small lick when she pulled away. Before he could come up with an apology, something sticky was placed across his mouth, and he was quite literally rendered speechless. Outwardly he grunted his protest, but inwardly he knew that he deserved it.

What he did not think he deserved, however, were the fingers that were suddenly drilling themselves into his rib cage. Henry squirmed hard, trying to get away, but he was stuck and his girlfriend was mad. Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he laughed into his gag. That was not what I had in mind! The tickling only lasted a minute or two to remind him who was in charge, but it felt like longer before she stopped. A gentle slap on the side of his face when she was done let him know he was forgiven and brought him immediately back to his arousal. He whimpered repeatedly through the gag, breath coming out sharply through his nose. He was ready to come, needed it. His girlfriend straddled his lap and he groaned as she tilted his erection up, still not providing any relief. She ran her fingers through his hair and placed her mouth on his temple again, next to his ear. A quiet ‘shhh’ escaped her lips; the first sound she’d made all night.

The tape was removed slowly from his mouth and Henry gave her a mumbled apology mixed with incoherent pleading, to which another ‘shhh’ was issued. His girlfriend hugged his head to her chest and soft kisses were planted on his hair as soothing hands squeezed up and down his shoulders, her favorite muscles of his. He felt the skin of her breast brush against his cheek and he realized she was naked; she must have removed the rest of her clothes while she had masturbated.

His girlfriend shifted in his lap and Henry uttered a loud sigh of relief as his throbbing erection was completely enveloped in her warmth. No mercy was shown or needed as she began to ride him in earnest; she was clearly as desperate as he. Her breaths became more shallow and she bit his shoulder in an effort to keep quiet as she came close to the edge. Henry urged her to come, murmuring dirty words into her ear as she rocked back and forth on his lap. He felt her walls tighten around him as she sat up and the blindfold was ripped off his head, allowing him to watch her come apart.

Her eyes were open and staring into his as she came, still riding him hard. Henry was close, but something was missing. His girlfriend snaked a hand behind her and pressed her fingers into his balls, and at the same time leaned forward and whispered in his ear three words that did him in every time she used them: “You’re my favorite.” Head bent into her shoulder, watching himself slide in and out of her center, Henry finally came, a reverent and lengthy “fuuuuuuck” escaping his lips. His girlfriend slowed down her thrusts and brought her hands around to cradle each side of his neck, resting her forehead on his.

They sat there a moment, chests heaving as they came down from their high. His girlfriend started kissing him again and Henry tugged his arms, whining a little in pain. She took the hint, reaching around the chair and pulling just one string while still kissing him. The ropes fell away and Henry pulled back to look at her incredulously, thinking it would have been so easy for him to escape the whole time. She laughed at his expression, her cheeky grin telling him that she clearly thought she had won.

Unfortunately for Henry, filming ran late that day. By the time he was on his way home, it was well past midnight, and he assumed Jace had gone to bed. Lust pooled angrily in his abdomen at the thought of having to do without her tonight, so Henry resigned himself to the shower. It would have to do until morning.

When Henry opened the front door, he wasn’t greeted by the usual clacking of nails and excited woofles of his dog. That’s odd, he thought, setting his stuff down. “Kal?” He called out, searching for the pup. As he entered the living room, what he found stopped him in his tracks.

Jace was sitting on the couch, wearing next to nothing, her legs near in splits as she fingered herself in front of him, slowly, methodically. A lone metal folding chair sat in front of her. Henry’s pants immediately tightened.

“I couldn’t wait for you anymore,” Jace whined, slipping a finger deeper. She gasped and arched her back, not taking her eyes off of Henry as her pleasure intensified. “Sit.”

Henry obeyed, sitting down in the chair across from Jace. He licked his lips as he watched her hand slide up and down her shaven pussy, as if she were caressing a beloved pet. He felt his breath quicken and hunger began to consume his thoughts as he anticipated what Jace was about to subject him to. He waited to see what she would do next.

“I’ve been meaning to teach you how this is done,” she cooed, staring seductively into his eyes, “Because what works for most women doesn’t work for me. Would you like to learn?”

Henry bit back a groan and nodded, reaching a hand out to rub her thigh. Jace slapped it away.

“Teacher has one rule, are you listening?”

Henry swallowed thickly.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy. The rule is simple: look all you want, but don’t touch. Naughty boys that touch get their hands tied to the chair.”

Henry hummed in appreciation at Jace’s tone. Never in his life would he have considered himself a sub, but this woman had brought out something in him that he’d discovered he wasn’t willing to ever put back. He stared at her, hands on his thighs, impatient. Jace propped herself up slightly, and raised her hand.

“This finger here,” she said, wiggling the one in the middle, “Is my favorite. It has the lightest touch. And thanks to the fact that I’ve let my pussy air dry, my folds feel like silk. See?”

Jace demonstrated by running the pad of her finger in a soft, slow line from the bottom of her lips to the very top of her clit. Her folds, already swollen from her earlier play, pulsed once, desiring more. Jace complied, repeating the line a few more times.

Henry noticed every time she grazed right over her nub, her breath would hitch in a tiny gasp and her muscles would tense, though she kept her legs spread. He made a mental note, and resisted the urge to touch her. It wasn’t allowed.

“Ugh, it's so light, I can barely even feel it,” she moaned, circling her clit with the gentlest pressure. “My body feels it though. This right here, this movement? This drives me crazy.”

Jace showed Henry what she meant as she kept up the rhythm, never stopping, never changing. Rock hard, Henry marveled at how she could keep her legs so still and yet continue to tease herself when the rest of her body twisted and flinched, wanting to escape the agonizing sensation. Jace was gasping, pleading with a wanton tone in her throat, eyes closed as she tried to fight the pleasure, to prolong the torture. Her pussy looked so soft that Henry reached out a hand and brushed his thumb against it, testing her sensitivity. Jace smacked his hand away again.

“This is your one and only warning, Henry. Don’t. Touch.”

Henry threw his hands behind his head and grasped his hair, both grinning and groaning in frustration as Jace went back to her folds. She made a ‘V’ and lightly scratched those fingers up and down like two little inchworms, one in each crease where her thighs met bone, delightfully wiggling her ass against Henry’s knees.

“Now this,” she said, panting as she squirmed, “This will frustrate me to no end. It’s nowhere near where I want you to touch, and it tickles slightly, and I will say or do just about anything to get you to stop or move elsewhere.”

Henry groaned, wanting so very much to replace her fingers with his. Jace suspected he did, and slid further down into the couch, her ass cheeks pressing harder into his knees.

“Christ, Jace, you’re not playing fair,” Henry moaned, his hands moving down to his thighs again against his will.

“Imagine if it was your tongue,” she moaned, clearly picturing it herself. She used the same two fingers to spread her outer lips open, and Henry couldn’t help himself. He dipped a finger inside her entrance, but Jace was off the couch and behind him in an instant, effectively connecting his wrists to the chair with a rope.

Henry tugged against his bonds, whining a little as he found he was expertly tied. Jace clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“You know what happens when you try to touch… now be a good boy, and sit still.”

Henry’s dick throbbed at her words, so very turned on by how authoritative Jace was being. He squirmed and the friction of his jeans sent delicious waves of pleasure shooting through his loins. Jace noticed him grinding and kicked his knees apart.

“I thought I said sit still,” she chastised him, holding his jaw up with two fingers. Henry nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

Jace released him and took up her position on the couch, splaying her legs once more.

“Now this part is where you should probably pay the most attention,” she said, spreading her lips open once more. “I like to be made to beg, but I don’t break easy. So, if you want me to beg, use two fingers, and slip them in like this.” Jace acted as she spoke.

“If you crook them up like this,“ she demonstrated with her other hand, but Henry could barely look at it for the arousing sight of her own fingers knuckle deep inside her pussy. “You’ll find a spot in the very back, and if you simply press on it, you’ll—ha!”

Jace threw her head back against the couch, mewling as she hit her favorite spot. Henry pulled against his restraints, wanting so badly to be the one extracting those sounds from her. His cock was on fire, a spot forming on his pants where he seed escaped out of him in betrayed anger. The ropes held, and all Henry could do was watch, mouth open in wanton need as Jace finger-fucked herself into an orgasm.

Henry watched the muscles in her abs constrict; he watched her brow knit and her thighs tremble. He watched the folds of her pussy clench around her fingers, dripping with the honey of her release. He watched her chest rise and fall with every strangled breath she took, and he watched the way she chased every ounce, every last drop of her desire until she was spent.

Fluttering her eyes open, Jace looked at Henry softly, smiling. She got up and straddled his lap, running her fingers through his hair as he kissed her heaving breasts. Jace pulled his mouth to hers for a kiss, before whispering something in his ear that sent a chill down Henry’s spine.

“It’s time for the exam, have you been listening to Teacher?”