Mike let out another low, mocking laugh, his eyes tracking the way her throat convulsed as she tried to swallow past the ache.
"Running out of steam already, Aveline?" he asked, his voice dripping with smug superiority. "Thought you were going to be the best service I ever had."
"I'm... ahh... I'm not done," she panted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, though she couldn't stop the shameless smile from spreading across her face. "I just needed... mmmh... I needed to breathe so I could take more next time."
Mike's laughter died down, replaced by a cold, commanding stillness that made the air in the room feel heavy. He didn't look satisfied; he looked hungry in a way that had nothing to do with food.
"Get off the bed," he ordered, his voice dropping to a rough register that brooked no argument. "On your knees... Right at the edge."
Aveline obeyed instinctively. Her body seemed to recognize his authority even before her mind could process the humiliation.
