Janelle's back arched off the sheets, her thighs trembling from the relentless rhythm pulsing inside her. Her breath came in ragged moans, sweat beading across her flushed skin. She gripped the sheets until her knuckles whitened.
Across the room, Mirabel sat like a queen
legs crossed, wineglass still untouched, remote in hand. Cold. Beautiful. Untouchable.
Janelle's voice broke. "Please…"
Mirabel tilted her head. "Please what, baby girl?"
Janelle whimpered, her hips grinding involuntarily. "Please… let me come."
The remote clicked off again.
Silence.
"God !" Janelle gasped in frustration, tears threatening to spill. "Please, Ma'am."
Still no mercy. Just the quiet drip of need… and Mirabel's eyes, dark with jealous rage and something crueler.
"You remember his hands?" Mirabel asked calmly. "The way he brushed them against yours when handing you the wine? You smiled at him."
"I didn't mean to."
"Wrong answer."
Click.
The toy roared back to life stronger. Deeper.
Janelle cried out, her body writhing.
"Tell me who owns you," Mirabel commanded, voice lower now. Dangerous.
"You," Janelle moaned. "You, only you—!"
"Again."
"You, Ma'am, only you!"
The toy stopped. Instantly.
Janelle sobbed from the sudden loss.
Mirabel finally stood. Crossed the room slowly, her heels silent now. She climbed onto the bed like a predator, crawling over Janelle's shivering body. Her mouth hovered just over Janelle's lips.
"You want to come?"
"Yes…" Janelle gasped, eyes wide and wet. "Please."
"You want my fingers? My tongue?" she whispered, grazing her thigh.
Janelle's breath hitched. "Yes."
Mirabel kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Her hand reached down and yanked the toy out, slick and hot. Janelle cried out at the sudden emptiness.
"You don't get either," she growled. "Not until you've begged like a slut."
She flipped Janelle over rough, fast. Pulled her hips up.
Her palm cracked against Janelle's ass. Once. Twice. Sharp. Wicked.
"Say it," she hissed. "Say you're mine. Say you're sorry for letting another man breathe the same damn air as you."
"I'm sorry. ah! I'm yours! Yours, Ma'am!" Janelle screamed.
Another slap. Then a kiss to her back. Sweet. Ironic.
"Good girl," Mirabel whispered, pressing herself against Janelle's ear. "Now spread wide, baby. I'm done playing."
---
To be continued