Between Want and Fear

The suite was just as he'd described -- soft lighting, nothing too showy, everything in clean lines and warm neutrals. A king-sized bed sat in the centre of the space like a quiet promise.

She stood just inside the doorway, clutching her purse like it might anchor her. Her fingers felt cold. Her cunt, however, ached -- hot, needy, ready in a way she hadn't expected.

Jake didn't move fast. He locked the door, then turned to her with that same grounded calm he always carried in their messages, their calls.

"I'm glad you came," he said, voice low, but steady.

Sienna nodded, her lips parting like she wanted to speak -- then closing again.

Jake watched her closely. The way her breath caught. The flicker of hesitation in her eyes. He could read it all -- the nervous energy vibrating beneath her stillness, the heat rising in her cheeks, the way her thighs pressed a little closer together as she stood there.

She was turned on. And terrified. Not of him -- but of wanting something she'd convinced herself she didn't need anymore.

He stepped forward, careful not to crowd her. Just enough to let her feel his presence. To let her choose whether to meet it.

His voice dropped, low and certain.

"You don't need to hide from me. Not here. Not tonight."

Her breath stuttered -- not fear, not quite -- more like being seen too clearly. Too intimately.

"I'm not here to rush you," he said, softer now. "But I am going to show you how much I want you. And I'm not going to pretend I don't know how wet you are right now."

A flush crept up her neck. Her eyes met his for a second -- then dropped, then flicked back again, as if unsure whether to stay or run.

She felt naked. Not because he'd touched her -- he hadn't even stepped that close -- but because of how completely he was seeing her. Every curve she tried to hide, every doubt she carried on her skin -- he looked at her like none of it scared him. Like it excited him.

And somehow, that was almost harder to stand than if he'd stripped her bare.

"You're safe here," he said, his voice steady. "Sienna, we move at your pace. Whether it's everything or nothing tonight -- that's up to you. If it takes time, if we build this slowly, I'm not going anywhere."

God. That steadiness. That ease. It was unraveling her faster than any push or pull could have.

"I don't really know how to be around this kind of energy anymore," she said softly, eyes dropping from his. "Sexy. Intense. Erotic. It's been a long time."

She sighed, and he could see it -- not just nerves, but something heavier. Shame, maybe. Regret.

"The last time I was with a man... I was twenty-one. And I wasn't in a good place."

Her fingers found the hem of her dress, worrying it between them.

"I thought I had to give my body to be wanted. That if I didn't make it easy -- if I didn't just let them take what they wanted -- they'd lose interest. And a lot of them did anyway."

She paused, breathing in, holding it for a moment before letting it go.

"I'm not that girl anymore. I know that. But I don't know how to be with a man without slipping back into her. And I'm scared I will."

Jake's gaze didn't flinch. He looked at her the same way he had when she sent that first picture -- the one she nearly deleted a dozen times before hitting send.

The one where her dress clung to her curves and her eyes didn't quite meet the lens. The one that made his cock twitch the second he opened it. He had immediately pictured peeling her open, slowly, tentatively -- or tying her in silk to a four-poster bed and leaving her spread out for him, trembling and aching.

But not tonight. Tonight she needed something else.

So he swallowed it down -- that want, those fantasies. They could wait.

"You don't need to apologise for anything," he said, voice low but certain. "You're here. That's enough."

He gave her a moment. Let the silence breathe between them -- not empty, but full of everything unspoken.

Then, softer -- but with a thread of steel beneath it: "Take your coat off."

It wasn't a demand. But it wasn't a question, either. It was an invitation. A line drawn -- not to cross, but to step toward.

She didn't say anything -- just slipped her coat off and laid it carefully over the arm of the chair. When she turned back toward him, Jake had already stepped closer. His presence filled the space between them now -- warm, solid, certain.

"I'm going to help you relax," he said, his voice rougher now, the softness edged with something darker.

Her breath caught, chest rising a little faster.

"I'm not going to ask you to undress," he added, slower this time. "And I'm not going to undress you myself. Not tonight. I want you to feel comfortable first -- in your body, in this space, in us."

Something in her softened at that. He saw it -- the way her shoulders dipped just a little, the weight in her chest shifting.

"I want you to lie down on the bed for me," he continued, tone calm but unmistakably in charge. "Head at the top. Arms above you."

She hesitated -- just a flicker -- then obeyed, moving across the room like she wasn't sure whether she was dreaming. The sheets were cool beneath her thighs as she sat, then eased herself down.

As she reclined, the hem of her dress slid higher -- just a few inches -- but enough to reveal the dark band of her stockings against bare skin.

Jake's jaw tightened. His cock twitched, heavy and immediate, at the sight.

She stretched out slowly, her fingers trembling as she reached up, arms above her head, hands searching for something solid to anchor her.

"Good," he said, low and quiet. "Now hold on to the top rail. Keep your hands there. Don't let go. Understood?"

Her thighs pressed together involuntarily.

"Yes," she whispered.

He didn't smile. Just nodded once -- and then knelt at the edge of the bed, hands sliding slowly up her calves, parting them with deliberate care.

Her breath hitched as he hooked his fingers beneath the hem of her dress, slowly drawing it up over her hips. He didn't rush. He just watched her -- every sharp inhale, every flush rising beneath her skin -- drinking in the way her body betrayed her nerves.

And with each soft gasp, he imagined her getting just a little wetter for him.

"No one's touched you in a long time, have they?" he murmured.

She shook her head, biting her lip.

"That's about to change."

And then he leaned in -- hot breath, soft lips -- pressing his mouth to the silk of her panties with a slow, deliberate drag of his tongue. He could feel the heat of her through the fabric. The wetness. The throb.

He moved a finger and gently pulled her panties to one side. She gasped, hips jerking at the contact, her knuckles going white where they clutched the top rail. He didn't stop. He growled low in his throat, his other hand sliding firmly under her thighs to anchor her, to keep her exactly where he wanted her. He tried hard not to grip her in a way that scared her. Right now he knew he had to be slow.

Then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to speak -- voice rough, close to her skin.

"Don't let go."

With that, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties -- she jumped, her heart leapt. The fabric clung for a moment, damp and unwilling, before he eased it down her hips, baring her inch by inch.

She tensed as the cool air hit her -- exposed, trembling -- but she didn't move.

Jake's gaze flicked up, locking onto hers.

"Good girl," he said, low and sure.

The words landed like a lightning strike. Her breath hitched. A soft, broken moan slipped from her throat -- shocked out of her, like it had bypassed her brain entirely. She hadn't expected that. Not the heat that pulsed at the sound of those two simple words.

Jake saw it -- the way her eyes widened just a little, lips parting, the flush blooming deeper across her chest. A slow smile curved at the corner of his mouth. A knowing smile.

"You liked that," he murmured. "Didn't you."

She didn't answer. Couldn't. But she didn't deny it either.

Then he lowered his mouth again -- this time to bare skin. No silk between them now. Just her soaked cunt, flushed and trembling, spread open for him. She tasted as delicious as he had imagined. He didn't hesitate. He didn't tease. He buried his face in her like he was starving -- tongue sliding through her slick folds, lips wrapping around her clit and sucking hard enough to make her cry out.

Sienna jerked under him, her whole body jolting at the contact, hands flying tight around the top rail. Her thighs tried to close, instinctive, overwhelmed -- but he held her open, firm and unrelenting, his hands gripping her hips like he owned them.

"Fuck," she gasped, voice high and breaking.

He growled against her -- low and dirty -- tongue flicking quick and relentless over her clit, then plunging inside her with wet, obscene precision.

She was shaking, knuckles white, cunt dripping for him, every muscle strung tight like a live wire.

And still, she didn't let go. Because he'd told her not to.

Her orgasm hit like a crack of thunder -- sharp, brutal, unstoppable. Her hips bucked against his mouth, a strangled cry ripping from her throat as she came, hard, grinding down on his face like her body had no other choice.

Jake held her through it, riding out every twitch, every gasp, every helpless, shattered moan.

And when she finally slumped back, breathless and wrecked, he looked up at her -- lips wet, eyes dark with heat.

"Good fucking girl."

She blinked up at him, dazed.

"I could feel it," he murmured, brushing a thumb along her jaw. "Your cunt gave me almost everything, but the rest of you?"

A pause. His eyes held hers, unblinking.

"Still holding back. Still a little locked up here."

He tapped her temple gently, then let his fingers trail down her throat.

His thumb drifted to her bottom lip, tracing it slowly.

"I think," he said, voice darkening just a touch, "I seem to remember you telling me -- about how men used to say you had the best mouth they'd ever fucked."

Her breath stilled, cheeks flushing deep.

He smiled.

"I'm not going to fuck your mouth tonight," he said, quieter now. "Not hard, anyway."

He leaned in, his voice right against her ear -- warm, commanding.

"But I am going to feel it."

She gulped.

"I want you on your knees, legs spread. Let me see if that sweet, filthy mouth still remembers how to please."

She moved slowly, uncertain -- legs shaky as she sat up, then slid off the edge of the bed. He watched her every step, steady and silent, tracking the nerves she couldn't hide. She was unsteady on her feet.

He knew -- the one thing she'd told him she hadn't missed about being with men. The one thing that used to make her feel used, instead of wanted. The one thing that she was most nervous about.

Oral sex.

And now she was doing it. For him. Because he'd asked. Because some part of her wanted to please him -- even if it scared her. She had potential. He could see it, feel it in every hesitant breath, every stolen glance.

He just had to open her up -- carefully, deliberately.

In more ways than one.

She sank to her knees in front of him, the carpet soft beneath her, her eyes flicking up to meet his -- then darting away again.

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry if I'm not good at it anymore," she said.

And fuck -- the way she said it. Like she meant it. Like she believed it. Like she was already bracing for being a disappointment.

Jake's expression deepened. His jaw clenched. His hands flexed at his sides. But when he finally moved, it wasn't to take -- it was to kneel, just enough to bring his mouth to her ear.

"You don't ever have to apologise for how you make me feel," he said. "You're not here to impress me. You're here to learn what it's like to be worshipped back."

He straightened again, his hand coming to rest gently against her cheek, thumb brushing just below her lips.

"Now open that pretty mouth for me, sweetheart. Let's take this slow."

Sienna looked up at him again, eyes wide, lips parted -- breath soft against his skin. Jake's thumb lingered at the corner of her mouth, tracing the shape of her lips like he was mapping something sacred.

"Just like that," he murmured. "Keep looking at me."

She swallowed. Nodded. Then opened her mouth.

"Good girl," he breathed, the words like warm honey and thunder at once. His cock twitched hard at the sight -- her kneeling, lips parted, eyes uncertain but trying. Trying for him.

He brought himself to her slowly, guiding the head of his cock to her lips, brushing them gently -- just enough to coat her with the slick heat of him.

"That's it," he said, voice strained, low. "Start slow. Just your tongue. Taste me."

She obeyed, licking tentatively along the tip, soft and wet and unsure -- and he groaned, deep in his chest.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed. "You feel that?" His hand cradled the back of her head, not pushing -- just there.

Sienna closed her lips around him, just the tip, taking him inch by inch -- slow, controlled, careful. Jake's head dropped back with a shuddered breath.

"Christ, Sienna," he growled. "You're perfect. Just like that."

He looked down again, watching her move. The way her lips sealed around him, the way her tongue flicked and curled with a growing confidence. Her hands came up to rest on his thighs -- light at first, then firmer, as if grounding herself.

"Fuck, look at you," he whispered. "On your knees, sucking my cock like you were made for this."

She moaned softly around him at the praise, and he felt it -- the vibration of her voice on his skin, the warmth of her breath, the hunger finally blooming in her eyes.

"That's it. Take a little more," he said, hand sliding gently into her hair, guiding her, not forcing. "You're doing so fucking well."

Every stroke of her mouth made his hips twitch, made his control fray just a little more -- but he held himself back. Not because he couldn't take more, but because he wanted to give her this. The pace. The power. The praise.

Jake's breathing had grown uneven -- his thighs tense, jaw clenched hard as she worked her mouth around him, slow and steady but devastatingly good. She was finding her rhythm now, building confidence with every inch she took, every soft moan that made him twitch in her throat. But he could feel it -- the edge creeping up on him. The tight coil in his spine. The need to let go.

He didn't want to.

Not yet.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling gently on her hair until her mouth released him with a wet pop. "I'm too close."

She looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes wide.

"We're not done," he said, voice low, rough. "Get on top of me. I want your cunt on my mouth while you finish what you started."

Her breath was still shaky as she rose to her feet, the flush high in her cheeks. She looked down at him -- laid back, cock thick and wet and waiting -- and something shifted in her eyes.

Not boldness.

A decision.

She reached behind her, fingers fumbling just slightly, then found the zip of her dress and drew it down. Jake watched, mesmerised, as the fabric slid down her body and pooled at her feet.

Black lace bra. Black stockings, held up by delicate garters. Nothing else.

His cock twitched at the sight -- fuck, she was unreal. Soft and strong. Nervous and commanding all at once.

She climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside him.

"Can I..." she swallowed, eyes dropping, voice barely audible. "Can I lie down instead?"

Jake's brows lifted, not in irritation -- but with gentle curiosity.

"Why?"

She hesitated, lips pressing together.

"Because of my size," she said finally. "I feel huge being above you. Like I'm... too much."

The words came out sharp and small, like she hated herself for saying them.

Jake's expression didn't shift. He didn't laugh, didn't argue.

He reached for her -- one hand on her thigh, the other rising to cup the back of her neck, grounding her.

"Sienna," he said, voice quiet but firm. "You're fucking gorgeous. Every inch of you."

His eyes locked onto hers, unblinking.

"You're not too much. You're not in the way. You're exactly where I want you."

She bit her lip, still frozen for a moment.

"I want you on top of me," he said, tone darkening slightly -- that soft command returning. "I want your thighs around my face and your mouth around my cock. Don't make me ask again."

The heat in his voice cracked something inside her -- shame burned off by the fire of his certainty.

She nodded, cheeks flushed, and moved forward, climbing over him. Her black lace bra brushed against his chest, her body settling above his mouth, thighs trembling.

And when she looked down at him and began to lower her mouth over his cock again, he growled up into her cunt like a man who knew he was about to feast on his favourite fucking meal.

But she didn't lower herself fully. Her body hovered, hips tense, holding just above his face.

Too much space. Too much hesitation.

Jake felt it instantly -- the weight she wasn't willing to give him yet.

"You're still holding back," he said softly.

She bit her lip, eyes flicking away.

He didn't push with words.

He slid his hands up the back of her thighs, then to her ass -- full, soft, fucking perfect -- and gripped her gently but firmly, coaxing her down.

"I want your cunt on my tongue," he said, low and rough. "Not near it. Not hovering over it. On it."

She let out a shaky breath.

"You're not going to crush me, Sienna," he added, voice tightening. "You're going to ruin me."

She whimpered at that, her thighs shaking.

"Come on, baby. I want your weight. I want your mess. I want you pressed down on my face while you suck my cock like a good fucking girl."

The words hit her like a wave -- and she gave in.

Her hips sank slowly, then fully, her soaked cunt settling over his mouth. He groaned deep into her, tongue immediately sliding between her folds, hands tightening on her ass as he pulled her into him.

And this time, she didn't hold back.

For a moment, she was lost -- completely drowning in the sensation of his tongue on her cunt. He licked her like a man obsessed, tongue sliding deep, then circling up to her clit in slow, maddening strokes. His grip on her ass was firm, possessive, guiding her to ride his mouth, to give him more.

Her hips rolled instinctively, grinding against his face, the soft slick sounds of her cunt filling the room with every pass of his tongue. She moaned, deep and raw, her forehead pressed into his hip as she tried to hold on.

And then -- his cock twitched in her hand.

It snapped her back to where she was -- what she was supposed to be doing.

She shifted slightly, angling herself better, then wrapped her lips around him again -- slow and deliberate. She let the head slip past her lips, tongue swirling around it as her hand stroked the base, slick with spit and pre-cum.

Jake let out a deep, ragged sound beneath her.

"Fuck, that mouth..."

She took him deeper -- a little more each time -- building her rhythm, her pace. One hand braced on his thigh, the other keeping him steady as she sucked him in slow, tight pulses. Her moans vibrated against him, soft but deliberate, letting him feel how much she wanted it now.

The sight of her cunt, dripping on his tongue, nearly undid him. His hands dug into her thighs again, but he didn't stop her.

"You're getting good at this," he growled. "Fuck, Sienna, just like that... deeper. Take me. Let me feel that throat."

And she did. She relaxed her jaw, eased him deeper, the head brushing the back of her throat as she swallowed around him -- slowly, steadily -- until his breath hitched and his thighs tensed hard beneath her.

Now he was close.

"Christ--" he gasped. "If you don't want me to come in your mouth, you better stop. Now."

She didn't stop.

She moaned, low and filthy, and sucked harder -- and that was it.

He lost it with a strangled growl, cock jerking between her lips, spilling hot and thick onto her tongue as she swallowed everything he gave her.

He cursed again, incoherent, hand sliding into her hair as he tried to hold still, tried not to lose his fucking mind.

"Holy fuck," he rasped. "You filthy, beautiful girl. Jesus fucking Christ."

But before she could even react, he grabbed her hips and dragged her cunt back down onto his face, mouth open, tongue ready, hungry.

He devoured her.

No teasing. No build.

Just full, desperate tongue-fucking, his lips wrapping around her clit, his tongue plunging deep, fingers spreading her open so he could taste every slick, throbbing inch of her.

She screamed.

Her body shook.

And when the orgasm hit, it was savage -- a tidal wave of heat and pleasure that tore a cry from her throat as her thighs clamped around his head and she came undone on his tongue, over and over, until her legs gave out and her vision blurred.

He held her through it, his mouth still moving, coaxing aftershocks out of her until she was sobbing into his thigh, hands gripping the sheets, body completely spent.