Rather than be embarrassed, however, seeing his reaction fills me with this bursting sense of euphoria.
He may have the control… but I’m not totally without power.
Of course, he tests that theory of mine a second later when he turns on the vibrator again. I twitch in place and look up at him helplessly.
“Go on,” he croons. “Finish your dessert.”
So I do. Every mouthful of thick, gooey mousse tastes so much more exotic somehow. It’s like the vibrator between my thighs is enhancing every sound, smell, and taste. By the time I’m finished with my little mason jar, I’m worried that I’ve soaked through the seat.
“You wear the vibrator well.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “U-Uri,” I gasp. “I think I… I’m gonna—”
His hand slides over my thigh and he digs his fingers into my skin as he snarl
