36

It was a game.

But this wasn’t about winning.

This was about ownership.

Hannah’s orgasms were mine.

I decided when they happened.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t fighting for one, wringing my hair like it was a fucking sponge, screaming like she wanted security to hear.

“Declan,” she gasped as I dived back in. “Yes!”

She was too close, so I slowed.

A cycle I continued to repeat.

A pattern I didn’t want to stop.

“Please,” she urged, staring down at me, lips wet and parted. Feral. “Please let me come.”

Maybe I just wanted to hear her beg.

Or maybe I wanted to reach the point where my dick couldn’t wait another second to sink into her.

Both of her hands were in my hair now, and, “Oh God, yes,” was filling my ears.

It would only take a few more swipes, and she’d be shuddering.

Was that what I wanted?

To have her cum pool on my tongue?

Or did I want her first orgasm to be on my cock?

Knowing her pussy was so tight that it’d felt like I was taking her virginity even though I knew I wasn’t.