Page 49 of With this Ring

She might not think that acts of service were fulfilling, but she’d learn. Caring for his submissive—her—satisfied him on a deeply personal level.

Finally, she nodded and sat up, then she scooted toward him.

Hands shaking, she accepted the package and tore it open. “Now what?” she asked, dropping the wrapper back on the nightstand.

“Come closer.” He took her wrist to guide her hand. “Put it on the tip and roll it down. I want to feel you doing this for me.”

Her gaze was filled with equal measures of uncertainty and determination. Then, slowly, she followed his directions. This was more than just a physical act, it was a gesture of trust and surrender.

“That’s it, Petal.”Fuck.Having this beautiful, desirable woman servicing him…Yeah.This was the stuff of dreams. And memories that would fuel his fantasies.

When she’d finally finished, she released her grip and looked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Excellent.”

“What next?” she asked, her voice shaky.

He played a hunch that she wanted to take at least a small amount of control. “Tell me what your instincts are saying.”

“I want to stroke you.”

“Good. Do it.”

Hesitatingly at first, she curled her hand around him, then traced her way down his length. As she looked at him, she drew her hand up.

“Keep going.”

She began to stroke with an age-old rhythmic precision, and he gritted his teeth together as he struggled against his climax.

He wanted this moment to last, to savor every touch, each glance, all of her sensual sounds.

As she continued, she tightened her grip.

Shit.How much longer could he last?

From beneath her long lashes, she looked up at him, seeking reassurance that she was doing it right.

Once he gave a small nod of approval, she sped up, her movements becoming less tentative, more confident.

Her touch was exquisite torture.

Gregorio gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold back as every muscle in his body tensed and his nerves stretched to breaking point.

Sasha continued, squeezing a little tighter and shortening her strokes.

“Fuck.” He groaned, and his balls drew up.

Knowing he couldn’t last, he clamped a hand around hers to stop her.

“Problem?” she asked softly with feminine power. “Sir?”

Vixen.

After prying apart her fingers, he pressed her down onto her back. Then he positioned her where he wanted her, on the edge of the mattress, thighs as far apart as possible.

“If you keep this up, I may need to add a more advanced yoga class, Sir.”

“Too demanding?” Not that he wanted to change anything, but he didn’t want her to get muscle cramps that would ruin their time together.

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