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of my dress is covering my panties up to my waist.

I have my knees pulled together and bent, drawn up nearly to his chest, but he presses them downward. “Open your legs, sweetie.”

I tremble as I part my thighs and let them fall open.

His hand trails down my inner thigh and then back up the other one. He does this several times, his gaze never leaving mine. Finally, he cups my pussy.

I moan at the contact and flush from the unavoidable truth that I’m soaked.

He drags his finger over the wet cotton and flicks my clit. “So wet for me…”

The intensity in his eyes and the fact that he’s still watching my expression makes my belly do flip flops. He just made me come this morning, and I’m so hot for him again that I can’t keep still.

“I think I’ll let you keep the panties actually. I like the fact that I can cup your pussy any time I want and find out how wet you are for me.” He continues to languidly tease my clit as he speaks, making me shiver.

His hand slides away from my pussy next and up my belly. This time he reaches under my dress and covers one of my breasts. He holds it reverently, like it’s precious to him, and I’m beginning to believe every inch of me is precious to him. He thumbs my bare nipple now, making my arousal continue to rise. “Mmm. I wonder if your arousal would be higher with or without the dress,” he ponders absently.

He keeps speaking. “I wonder if the material rubbing against these hard little tips keeps them stiff or if you’d be even needier with them exposed.”

I bite into my lip. I can’t answer his question because I have no idea. The thought of wearing nothing but panties in the house makes me flush though. I don’t know why. He’s seen every inch of me. How could I still have a shred of modesty left?

He moves his hand under my dress to cup the other breast next as if not wanting to leave it out. It’s so heady the way he’s looking at me and touching me.

When his hand slides back to my panties, he presses his palm against my pussy. “You’re soaked.”

I squirm.

He runs his fingers along the edges of my panties between my legs, teasing the sensitive skin there without touching me where I need it most. Finally, he dips a finger under the edge and finds my clit. He flicks it several times until I gasp and writhe beneath him.

“Stay still, sweetie.”

At his command, I force myself not to move, but it’s so hard. He really likes to demand me to remain still for some reason.

“Your release is so much sweeter, so much stronger, so much deeper if you let me control it, sweet girl.” He lightly pinches my clit, and I gasp, instinctively pulling my knees inward.

He releases my clit and gives it a light swat. “Legs open, sweetie.”

I let my thighs fall apart again. I wonder if sex is this good for everyone and I realize it’s not. I’ve listened to the women complaining about their sex lives in the dressing room at the Sky Lounge for a year. Half the reason I’ve never had sex before now is because those women acted like it’s a waste of time.

Davis resumes stroking my clit, his hand sliding more fully under my panties, stretching them away from my pussy. “I love the look on your face when you’re blissed out with need.”

I swallow again. His words alone could make me come.

He gathers more of my copious wetness and flicks my clit again. He’s taking his time, watching my expressions as I grow closer to orgasm and then backing off. He’s controlling everything. It’s heaven.

“My sweet girl feels so good, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Sir,” I manage to whisper.

“When I tell you to come, you’re going to orgasm all over my hand.” He states this as a fact. It’s not a question or a suggestion. And I’m transfixed by his confidence.

After teasing me to the edge and back for several more minutes, he drags his fingers through my folds again and circles my clit with more pressure. It’s maddening how he continues to tease my opening without ever breaching the barrier. It leaves me wanting more. Craving the unknown.

“Did you ever slide that vibrator up inside you, sweet girl?”

I shake my head. “No, Sir.” I never needed to. I’ve easily reached orgasm through clitoral stimulation. Frankly, I’ve always been a little nervous about pushing my vibrator inside me, worried it might hurt. It’s much larger than the small tampons I use.

Davis is mesmerized, but I know by the tightness of his face that he’s aroused too. I can feel his erection against my hip. Part of me would like to explore it. Part of me feels a rush of nervous heat at the prospect. He’s so good to me. What if I don’t please him like he does me?

I gasp when he straddles my clit with two fingers and rubs harder. There is so much lubrication that the friction feels amazing. Suddenly he traps my clit between his fingers and then flattens three fingers over the swollen nub and rubs. “Now, sweet girl. Come for me.”

I shatter against his fingers the moment he demands it. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I’m his. It’s like I’m not even in control of my own body anymore. Davis is. And as I ride the waves of my release, I don’t care. I’d let him do anything to me.

My eyes flutter back into my head as I pulse against him, and not for the first time since he’s started bringing me to orgasm, as I float back to Earth, I feel an emptiness inside, a need, a craving for more. I want him to thrust into me. I desire it like a drug, that elusive something I can’t possibly comprehend.

Chapter 23

Master Davis

After I bring my sweet

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