𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

You, [a sharp breath in, almost unable to control the way his hips buck to chase that mouth, frustrated moan smothered low in his throat.] — you're awful, teasing me like this.

[Fussy, but not a sentiment he truly means outside the sexual torment.]

I can't decide. There are too many options. But, the first few you mentioned, where you're the one hitting me... [Maybe he's too biased by the fact of how badly he wants Cy to touch him now, but the thought is appealing, almost overwhelmingly so.] I like those. Where it's you, controlling me.

[Whipping, spanking, being forced to sit — it's a potent fume of lust that crowds out his mind of all thought.]

I trust you with any of it.