I take a fork, cut a slow bite, and hold it up to her mouth.
“Open.”
She does. I slide the cake between her lips, watching her close around it. Chocolate smears at the corner of her mouth.
“Chew.”
She obeys.
I drag my thumb through the smear and press it back to her lips. “Clean it.”
She sucks my thumb without being told. My breath tightens. I don’t look away.
“Good girl.”
I lower my mouth to her throat, kiss down to her collarbone, then lower still. I unbutton her dress slowly, one button at a time, making her wait between each one. Her chest rises fast. Her nipples are tight, straining against the fabric.
“You get so responsive when you wait,” I murmur. “You notice?”
She nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I free her breasts and take one into my mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. My hand goes between her thighs again. She’s still soaked.
“You didn’t come down from dinner,” I say. “You just carried it with you.”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“I know.”
I press the remote once. She gasps, fingers clawing at the edge of the counter. Her hips jerk.
“Eyes on me.”
She forces them up. Her pupils are blown and her mouth is glossy. I take another bite of dessert, then lean in and press my mouth to hers, feeding it to her slowly. Chocolate smears between us. She moans into my mouth, the vibration answering her body.
“That’s it,” I say. “Taste it. Feel it.”
I pull back, wipe my mouth with my thumb, then drag that thumb down her sternum, over her stomach, and between her legs. I remove the balls, and she moans.
“You like being fed while you’re open like this?”
“Yes.”
“You like knowing I’m watching every reaction?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I sink two fingers into her, and she arches, breath breaking.
“So warm,” I murmur. “So ready.”
Her hands slide toward my shoulders. I catch her wrists midair and pin them to the counter.
“Ask.”
“Please,” she breathes. “Please touch me.”
I add a third finger. She sobs.