Page 11 of His Secret Merger

Then she straddled me.

Her hands pressed to my shoulders, pinning me there, not hard, but firm. Just enough to say,don’t move unless I say so.

“You like to be in control,” she said.

I nodded.

“Not tonight.”

She slid my cock inside her and rocked her hips once—slow, enough to make me groan—and leaned in again.

“You think because you own things, you understand power. But real power?” she whispered. “That’s knowing exactly what a man wants... and making him wait for it.”

She kissed down the side of my neck. My pulse throbbed beneath her lips. I reached for her hips, but she caught my wrists mid-air and pinned them back against the mattress.

“No touching unless I say so.”

I didn’t argue. Couldn’t.

Her mouth traveled lower. Her tongue traced the edge of my ribs. Her nails followed after—sharp, slow.

“You’ve been difficult,” she murmured. “So tonight, you’re going to learn what happens when you let go.”

Then she moved.

A slow grind. A deliberate drag of hips that made my spine bow off the mattress. Skin against skin, wet and sinful and wickedly precise. She didn’t ride me—she took me like she’d planned and timed it. Knew exactly how much I could take before I broke.

I didn’t beg.

Not out loud. But inside? I was unraveling.

She changed the rhythm the second I started to chase it. Teasing. Withholding. A dangerous tilt of her hips that stole my control every time I got close to catching it.

She leaned down and whispered something so naughty I forgot how to breathe.

“Give it to me, Damian. I want to own your orgasm.”

Then she bit my shoulder—not hard, just enough to remind me she could.

She kept me right on the edge of release—right there—until my hands twitched in their invisible restraints and I growled her name like a warning.

“You close?” she asked, voice thick with power.

“Yes.”

“Too bad.”

She pulled back completely.

“Damn it.”

The ache hit hard. The denial was sharper than I’d ever admit. My entire body locked down like it couldn’t figure out what had just happened.

Juliette laughed—low, satisfied, utterly in charge.

“Lesson one,” she said, brushing her lips over mine without kissing me, “never underestimate me.”

Then she slid back down. This time, she didn’t hold back.

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