„Emma, you're my earth."

Sebastian grabs her ankle.

In one motion, he pulls her closer. Not gently. Not the way he has done anything else tonight. He drags her across the sheets until her hips are at the edge of the mattress. Exactly where Sebastian wants Emma, and the small startled sound she makes goes straight through his bones.

I can't believe that this is happening. I can't believe that she lets me do this to her.

He towers over her for a second. Glaring at her. Admiring the picture he painted with the wax on her body.

Red hair. Copper waves. If I were Superman, she would be my Kryptonite.

She pushes up onto her elbows and does not wait for instructions. Emma slides off the bed and onto the floor in front of him in one fluid motion, and just like that, she kneels before him.

Sebastian holds his breath.

Her hands settle on his thighs. She looks up at him once with a timid smile and then Emma leans in.

Please don’t embarrass yourself now.

Her mouth opens wide, and the first contact is the tip of her tongue with the knob of his cock. Then she licks the underside of his member, from tip to his base and back. The sound that escapes his throat is barely bitten back by him.

Finally, she takes him in and then — nothing.

Emma stops. She holds Sebastian in her mouth, motionless, eyes closed.

Is she savouring me, like I made her savour the whiskey?

Her tongue barely moving against him, just the warm wet stillness of her mouth wrapped around him. She takes not a second less than he took. The deliberate, unhurried, almost cruel devotion of a woman proving a point.

Oh, she is as good as she boasted.

Her eyes open. Emma looks up through her lashes and there is something smug in it.

That look we will wipe off your f…fuuuck

She begins.

Slow at first. Emma’s tongue working along the length of him, finding every ridge, every vein. Her lips soft, her jaw relaxed. She is paying attention to what makes him twitch, to where his breath catches, and to the involuntary small things his body is giving away, whether he wants it to or not.

She is reading Sebastian.

One of her hands slides down her own body and between her legs, where her fingers immediately start to work in the same rhythm her mouth works on him.

She moans, and the vibration travels from his cock up his back to the nape.

She told me I won’t last more than three minutes inside of her mouth. If she continues like that, I won’t be able to last two.

She does it again, longer this time. A deeper moan, and he can see her hand moving faster between her thighs. He can see the shift in her shoulders as she works her pussy, while she sucks his cock. This is not a performance anymore.

She is actually getting off on giving me a blowjob. Keep it together. Keep it to...

Then she does it.

Her cheeks hollow.

The pull of her mouth deepens, getting tight around him.

Her tongue presses flat against the underside of his shaft.

As she pulls away, her tongue drags along until she finds this one spot right under his tip.

Sebastian can't stop himself from making a sound between a moan and a grunt.

And then — black.

Was zur…? Was war das? Oh, warte nur Du…
(What the... What was that? Oh, just you wait, you...)

Emma is smiling. He can feel it, the shape of her mouth around him.

He grabs her hair and pulls her off him without thinking about it.

She gasps. Her eyes are wide open, her lips are wet.

Up.

Sebastian doesn't recognize himself speaking or recognize the change in tone.

She struggles to get up quickly but he already tosses her on the bed.

She yelps and her face freezes when she sees his expression. Sebastian has gone. This well-put-together man has left the room and something darker, something feral is here with her now.

It climbs onto the bed and onto her. One hand finds her mane and the other guides itself back into her mouth. But this time is different; this time, it is in charge.

It kneels above her and pushes its full length down her gullet, but to its surprise, she does not gag.

That makes him stop down her throat for a second.

I hate gurgling. I hate to, but I will make you do these ugly sounds.

Sebastian starts pounding her face. This is not passionate; there is no need to make the other feel good. This is a pure demonstration of what he can do without giving her a word in it.

And Emma takes it.

Takes it all and starts to moan and slightly gag around his cock. Every onslaught on her throat makes her body go a little bit more limp.

He stops inside of her and breathes heavily.

She doesn't. She can't right now.

"I won't do all the work here. Use your fingers to fuck yourself."

And only when she complies with his command, he pulls out far enough for her to breathe again.

Right when he continues his unforgiving administration on her face, he can feel it.

His balls start to pull tight, that unmistakable sign of his impending orgasm.

No. No, no, no. Not so soon.

To hide his panic, Sebastian shoves her back on the mattress and backs off the bed quickly. He paces left and right in front of the bed like a lion. Half his face is hidden under his hair.

Nodding to the wet spot on the blanket right between her legs.

"Don't stop."

Calm down, or you will ruin everything. Think!

He approaches the bed again but keeps standing right at the edge.

"Move closer."

Emma gets on her knees immediately and crawls to him, ready to gobble him up but when she leans in, his hand is on her throat again. It is the same image as the whiskey tasting, but this time, he actually chokes her.

"I didn't tell you to swallow me again and I certainly didn't allow you to stop pleasuring yourself."

He gives her a moment to process that.

OK. Now play it cool. All you have to do is endure this for a few more minutes.

"I want you to make yourself come. If you don't finish yourself before you finish me, I will be very disappointed."

She gets back to circling her clit with both her index and middle fingers, fast now, with the determination not to let him down.

Her moans start quietly but soon get desperate; her eyes are fixed on his cock.

He lets go of her throat and grabs her head with both hands. He is back in her mouth, continuing the onslaught on her throat with the same rhythm she abuses her own fingers.

Sebastian can hear that Emma is getting closer.

God, thank you, just a little longer.

"Now cum for me!"

That does it. Emma’s legs start shaking while she kneels in front of him. The orgasm hits her hard and her moans are getting high-pitched. Everything else would have hurt. Her eyeballs roll back under her closed eyelids.

"Now do the thing again."

She pulls her head back a bit, drags her tongue under his shaft to the sweet spot right under his knob and hollows her cheeks. But this time, he is prepared and ready to enjoy all of her skills to the fullest.

Sebastian’s head falls back, his mouth opens, and the sound that gets out is a deep groan.

He can't control the weakness in his voice leaving his body the same way he cannot control his hot, salty semen leaving his cock.

He forces Emma to consume all of it while she rides the waves of her own ongoing orgasm. The thick juice that shoots out in ropes and every little drop as well as the strength his voice emits and every little whimper Sebastian cannot catch.

His knees buckle and he stumbles back.

This woman. This was incredible.

While he fights to stay on his feet and against a building heart attack, she can only heave for air and stare at his length. Both unable to speak for a moment.

Both smile at each other like idiots.

When he is able to, he gathers everything he has left inside. Strength, dignity but mostly the will to not embarrass himself in front of this goddess. He turns and walks to the dresser, grabbing something he partly hides in his big hands.

Emma gives him a curious look as he approaches her with a beautiful wooden box. Dark rosewood with a silver clasp.

I can't believe I'm going through with this.

"Emma,"

Sebastian extends his arms, holding the wooden box that shimmers almost reddish in the light of the candles, the delicate clasp facing her.

"One who doesn't understand the strength and the raw power it takes to submit, truly and fully submit, to someone else, giving up control, pride, and the self, is not worthy of a goddess of submission like you."

He opens the box for her to see what it holds, hoping she understands what it is.

This took me months.

A beautiful collar, made of thick leather. Purple and with fine black lace.

This is not a cheap kink toy from a foreign online webshop.

This is the work of a craftsman that spent hours making it the perfect fit for her neck. She can see that without having to try it on. Purple is her choice when it comes to colour, and it perfectly matches her favourite lingerie that he has not even seen yet.

"I want you to have my collar and wear it when we are together and when you are alone and long for me. Put it on, and in those moments, you are mine. Know that I will wear your collar. Not openly, not around my neck but around my heart. If you agree that collar is a vow to always tend to you, and this one can't be lifted."

Emma can only stare aghast at the present, unable to speak.

He makes a pause and this one comes out in perfect, beautiful French.

"Je le porterai toujours, jusqu'au jour où je mourrai."
(I'll always wear it until the day I die.)

Sag bitte ja. Oder lass mich hier und jetzt tot umfallen.
(Please say yes or let me drop dead here and now.)