Jess’s whisper still hung in the air: I want this too. The words seemed to echo, filling the room, filling Ryan’s head until he felt hollow.
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Her shoulders had loosened, her body softening against Marcus like she’d finally dropped a burden she’d carried for months. Ryan saw it—the relief, the almost shocking ease in her posture. She wasn’t fighting anymore. And the realization split him open.
Marcus’s hand slid along her side, calm and steady. “Good,” he said. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He just let the silence stretch, his presence wrapping around her like a cage.
Jess shivered, caught between nerves and anticipation. “So now what?” she asked, her voice small but edged with something new—something close to eagerness.
Marcus smirked. “Now you get what you’ve been begging for with your body. But not all at once. You’ve earned a taste, not the whole meal.”
Ryan’s chest tightened. He wanted to scream at him to stop, but his cock throbbed painfully, betraying him with every beat.
Marcus leaned Jess back slightly so he could look at her fully. Then, with deliberate slowness, he brushed a thumb across the open cup of her bra, circling her nipple. Jess gasped, her back arching instinctively.
Ryan’s stomach flipped. He knew that sound—knew how close it meant she already was. But hearing it now, drawn out by another man’s touch, was unbearable.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Marcus murmured. He pinched lightly, twisting just enough to draw a moan from her throat. Jess’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting in a helpless sigh.
Her head tilted back, baring her neck. Ryan clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. He had done that to her countless times. But this was different. She wasn’t just responding. She was surrendering.
Marcus’s other hand trailed down to the thin strip of fabric covering her pussy, pressing lightly against the damp heat. Jess jerked, a cry catching in her throat.
“Dripping,” Marcus said softly, almost clinical. He looked straight at Ryan as he said it, as though filing a report. “Soaked for me.”
Ryan’s face burned hot, shame and arousal tearing through him.
Jess whimpered, twisting slightly, chasing the pressure. “Please…” she breathed.
Marcus stopped instantly, pulling his hand back. Jess gasped in frustration, her eyes flying open.
“No,” Marcus said firmly. “Not yet. Not until you ask properly. Not until you admit exactly what you want me to do.”
Jess trembled, caught between pride and desperation. She bit her lip, her eyes darting to Ryan for rescue, but he sat frozen, drowning in his own storm.
Marcus leaned close, his voice low, commanding. “Say it. Or I’ll keep you on edge all night.”
Jess’s chest heaved, her face crumpling with need. Her voice cracked when she finally whispered, “I want you to touch me.”
Marcus smiled, satisfied. “Better. But we’re not finished.”
And Ryan realized with a sick ache that this was just the beginning of how Marcus would train her—drawing the truth out of her piece by piece, until she stopped pretending altogether.
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