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"You are very impatient," she says, warmth in her voice. His neck gets one more kiss before she moves back down his body between his thighs once more. She rewards his impatience with no hesitation on her part, taking the head of his cock into her mouth.

As she pushes her hair back with one hand, she looks up to make sure he's watching.

He is watching. He’s impatient, too; with his wrists only superficially bound, there is nothing stopping him from reaching for her. Only a desire to keep to her orders keeps his hands where they are.

“A bold accusation, considering the circumstances…”

But he’s in her mouth.

He groans, long and low. Tries not to think about where this confidence comes from — but he thinks it’s always been there, and he hasn’t always appreciated it.

Jill is determined to keep her eyes on his as she sucks him off. He likes impulsive. He likes not having to think. She can give him that, she thinks. Her tongue lavishes him, and she enjoys every moment.

Yet she abruptly stops when she feels him reach the point of impossibly hard.

"Not yet," she warns. "Keep in control of yourself, Clive."

The intensity is like nothing else, her mouth is warm and wet, and her attention focused. She stops and he just stares at her, a wildness behind his eyes and a white-knuckle grip on the headboard.

“Not until you give permission,” he rasps, but Founder if that isn’t a hard thing to stick to. He shifts a leg, pressing the side of his calf into her, like he could bully her onward. “I promise…”

That leg gets a kiss to its inner thigh, her eyes full of mischief. She's already made it clear she likes him desperate. Like this, she doubts he can think about anything else.

"I think I can assist you," she says, and once more she's abandoning his cock to move up his body.

Except she stops, and very carefully maneuvers so that when she straddles his hips, she's facing away from him. There's a glance over her shoulder before she scoots again, enough that she can easily reach his cock--and now her cunt is right in his face.

"I know you find pleasure in pleasuring me," she says. Why not get the best of both worlds?

She presents herself to him and he’s immediately nosing his way along the seam of her lips, ready to be smothered right there if it means suffocating with her taste on his tongue. He laps at her immediately, eyes rolling up with a groan. Yes, my lady.

Not being able to see him isn't her favorite, but she cherishes knowing (and feeling) how much he enjoys eating her out like a starved man. It spurs her on, lips and tongue tighter, bobs of her head deeper.

Starved and desperate. For her, for release, whatever he can earn. He brings his arms down to put them around her hips, locking her in place with his bound wrists, and barely lets off even when his head spins. Having a task is the only thing that lets him focus enough to not spend himself right then, or buck into her warm mouth.

His moans are just a rumble through his chest.

His hands are bound and she never said anything about not using them as he will. She supposes he's not breaking any rules, and truth be told, the way he holds her to his mouth makes her groan with pleasure.

She fondles his balls as she takes him deeper. He's a good distraction from her own pleasure, but in the best way.

Lightheaded and loving it, Clive keeps at it. She’s tart and slippery, and every rock of her lips around his cock ends up shifting her back against his mouth, and the intensity ramps up as he goes. Stubbornness alone keeps him from just coming in her life, but it’s hard — eventually he has to put his head back just long enough to gasp, begging: “Mercy.”

She hasn't felt so full of pride in a long time. Jill lets his cock fall from her lips with a pop, hips lifting so that he has more room to breathe. Poor man.

"Too much?" She asks with a chuckle, lazily stroking him with her hand.

“Only if you expect me to last,” he says, amused, and he breathes deeply in her as he catches his breath. Never was a good swimmer, but this is worth improving for. He closes his eyes briefly, peaceful despite his heart rate. He murmurs: “I love your ass.”

"I don't care about you lasting. I care about leaving you trembling in my bed," and maybe she would sound more seductive if she didn't immediately laugh. He loves her ass? He sounds nearly drunk to her ears.

"You're ridiculous, Clive."

She loves him most when he's like this.

He scoffs, light-hearted, and he briefly squeezes her with his locked-in embrace.

“I don’t say it enough,” he replies. “If it makes me ridiculous to say so, then so be it…”

His toes curl briefly and he tilts his hips up into her grip.

He wants more. She blesses him with a long lick before speaking again.

"Is that where you wish to finish? Name your desire."

Someone doubts he will last very long as it is.

A groan slips out of him, and he nearly stifles himself against her cunt.

“I want to be inside you.”

She supposes a few holes technically count as inside her, but she knows what he means. Carefully, Jill moves herself off him so that she can straddle him properly, leaning down to kiss his lips. He tastes like her.

"Didn't I just clean your face?"

“So you did.”

He presses up against her, blindly trying to rut into her without a guiding hand. He’s left to hum against her lips, bringing his bound hands around the back of her neck.

Poor man. If she weren't so desperate in her own way, wanting to feel him fill her, she'd make him suffer in wait.

Next time, she tells herself. As they kiss, she reaches between them to guide him inside her. He slips in effortlessly, and Jill sighs against his mouth. This is what she enjoys most.

There’s an odd relief in him as he slides into her, her grip on him dragging him home. He barely wants to break off the kiss to mutter.

“May I…?”

He presses up to emphasize, too shallowly to bottom out. It’s a strain to thrust up with his wrists bound and held above her head, but he wants it, he so badly fucking wants it.

"You may."

If he wants out of the belt, he can likely manage it with a good tug. But she's kind, and she trails a hand up his arm.

"Shall I set you free?"

He braces his feet and fucks up into her, slow at first, and as he adjusts to the weight of her on him and the lack of leverage, he picks up speed until he’s rutting into her.

“No,” he pants.

That works. Jill's face is near his ear, hand dropping to brace herself on the bed.

"Oh, Clive," she gasps. "Just like that."

Her praise is fuel. He picks it up, bottoming out in her, and before long he’s coming, his desperate thrusts growing sloppy as he fills her up and fucks it all deeper into her.

“More?”

He doesn’t want this to end.

He's perfection. Jill moans when he comes, and that he keeps going fills her chest with affection for him. He deserves this bliss, always..

"Can you manage?" She asks with a breathless laugh, sloppily kissing the side of his face as she rolls her hips, thighs wet.

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