The trust at the forefront of his mind settled her, eased the genuine fear. She still wasn’t entirely sure which form of submission he wanted — a rebellious spitfire, or kneeling and humble. She let a little fear show on her face, biting at her lips, and then he was grinding against her and she couldn’t help but moan.
A smug smile twisted his lips and he soothed her neck again with his tongue. “Don’t move,” he said as he moved away from her, and crouched in front of her. His fingers traced over her garters, then undid them. Normally he enjoyed a fiery spirit in his partners but right now, right now he wanted complete obedience. He tongued her through her panties, rocking back on his heels.
She really wanted to hold on to his shoulders, but he’d said not to move, so she didn’t. She couldn’t keep silent, though; it was amazing how just wearing certain things could change the way you reacted to things. He wasn’t even really doing much — and then his hot breath was at her panties, and she sucked in a sharp breath.