

I smirk as I hover over you, your eyes flickering between my face and the heavy curve of my belly, just inches from your chest. You’ve been staring all night, practically hypnotised by every sway, every teasing shift of my body. Now, you are right where I want you—flat on your back, wrists trapped in one of my hands, completely at my mercy.
“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” I tease, rolling my hips just enough to make you groan. “Staring, imagining how it’d feel to have all of me on top of you.”
A shaky breath leaves your lips, and I can see how badly you want to move, to grab at my thighs, my belly, anything you can reach. But I am not going to make it that easy.
“Ah, ah,” I tutt, pressing down just enough to make you gasp. My belly spread over you, soft but inescapable, keeping you pinned beneath my weight. “You don’t get to touch until I say so.”
You squirm, your hips lifting like you are trying to chase the pressure, but I simply chuckle, shifting just enough to remind you who is in control.
“Poor thing,” I coo, dragging my fingers along your jaw, tilting your chin so you have no choice but to look up at me. “You love this, don’t you? Being completely at my mercy?”
A breathless “yes” escapes you, and I reward you with a slow, deliberate roll of my belly against you, pressing you deeper into the bed. Your eyes flutter shut, a desperate moan slips from your lips.
“Then beg for more,” I whisper, letting my weight settle just a little heavier. “I want to hear you say it.”