Abandon 

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I’m on my knees, breathless, eyes lifted to meet his. Pierre stands tall before me, tracing my chin lightly with the tip of his leather whip. A silent command, an invitation to surrender entirely. I shiver under his control, my body already humming with anticipation. He drinks in the moment, this second when I submit to his will, when my desire blends with my surrender.

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His fingers slip into my hair, pulling me closer. My lips part, eager, as I feel him push into my mouth with force. His deep, guttural moan echoes above me, a growl of pleasure that makes me even more docile, more hungry. I take my time, tease him, beg with my eyes. He tightens his grip, controls my rhythm, pulling muffled moans from my throat.

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But it’s not enough. I want him deeper, I want to be taken completely, to feel the full weight of his desire inside me. He lifts me, presses me against him, his burning hands roaming my fevered skin. My back hits the bed, my thighs spread of their own accord. He slides between them, claiming every tremble, every impatient gasp.

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And then, finally, he enters me. Fierce and tender all at once, he thrusts into me with the certainty of a man who knows I’ve been waiting for this. Every stroke is a promise, a reminder that I am his, fully, irreversibly. I cling to his shoulders, undulating beneath him, drunk on the rhythm of his body. Our breaths entangle, our bodies crash together, until it all erupts in a searing wave of pleasure.

When he finally collapses onto me, forehead resting against my neck, our skin slick and trembling, I smile.

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Because this... is only the beginning.