I Need You, Please | FemDom&MSub

Chapter 1 - Piercing Through My Defenses

Hello!! this is the author! 

I just want to say that there are spelling mistakes, just pls ignore those! :)

And multiple mistakes in past, present, and future tense, just so everyone knows this is all in present tense, I just have a hard time distinguishing them when I write. 

I hope you all love this story!!!! And VOTE!!! It would help me out so much!!! 

Comment as much as you like, I'd love to hear your feedback!!!! 

(no hate pls I have a sensitive heart :)  )

ENJOY YOU SMUT THIRSTY READERS!!!!  :))))))

__________________________________________________

He looks me dead in the eye, the darkness of his bedroom surrounding us, his gaze piercing through my defenses as if he can see into my very soul. His lips curl into a smirk that tells me he knows exactly how to rile me up—and he's enjoying it.

"You want it, don't you?"

He taunts, his voice smooth with a hint of mockery. I feign ignorance, trying to deflect his provocations.

"What are you talking about?!"

His eyes remain calm, unsettlingly so. I can feel my frustration simmering, but I won't let him see it.

"Wanting what?!"

I snap defensively, my voice pitched just a little higher than I intended, trying to convey that he's ridiculous for asking such a vague question. He sighs softly, his smile widening like he's savoring this moment.

"You know exactly what I mean..."

He drawls, each word thick with intention. Moonlight spills through the half-drawn curtains, casting a glow over his face. There's an easy confidence in his voice, like he's got all the time in the world, to slowly peel back all the layers of my mind, his purpose... to uncover a secret I've been hiding all my life.

He lounges on the edge of the bed, his gaze intense, an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine, like he's already figured me out. Yet, there's still a sense that he's under my control—waiting, offering himself for the taking. As if he says... You have me and I'm all yours, only yours.

"Oh, do I now?"

I challenge, trying to sound composed, but I can feel the nerves beneath my skin. I cross my legs to steady myself, heat rising from the deepest parts of my bones.

"Well, if you're that clueless..."

He whispers, his tone unexpectedly soft and tender, almost shy. It feels familiar—too familiar. It catches me off guard.

Desperation? Need? Vulnerability? I'm not sure yet. Maybe he doesn't really know my deepest secret after all. He stands from the bed, the comforter dipping in from the now lessened weight.

"I have no choice but to show you,"

He says, but this time his voice quivers, the bravado cracking. As his hands move to the button of his jeans, and his fingers suddenly freeze. His nerves are starting to show. The crack in his calm exterior, uncertainty in his eyes that wasn't there before, and in that split second, the power dynamic between us shifts.

He's no longer the one in control, I am.

A moment of silence falls heavy over us as if we are now processing the dynamic shifting, and my confidence begins to spill out as he gazes at me waiting for a sign, waiting for my approval.

He is waiting for my word.

"I thought you had this all figured out,"

I say softly, the teasing edge in my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. My words land heavy, and I see him visibly catch his breath, desperation now creeping into his voice.

"I-I do,"
He says, though it lacks conviction. His tone is softer than before, unsure.
"I just... I want you to see it."

The need for my validation clings to him like a shadow. He knows I see through it. I lean in closer, raise an eyebrow, my presence overwhelming the space between him and me, especially him.

"Do you? Because you're starting to sound like someone who's not so sure anymore."

He rises, moving toward me with a slow, deliberate pace, trying to hold onto the illusion of control. But his hands betray him, trembling slightly as they reach for the button on his jeans.

A flicker of doubt that reveals everything—he's craving my approval yet terrified of showing it.

As he unbuttons his jeans, the sound of the zipper echoes in the silence. He's stripped down emotionally, exposed in a way that makes the air between us electric. His vulnerability is laid bare.

"You want me to see you, don't you?" I ask, my voice low, commanding, with his eyes intently glue to me. "But more than that, you want me to take control. Hmm?"

I smile devilishly, just slightly. He notices, and immediately his eyes are drawn to the floor in front on him. His lips part as if to protest, but the words don't come out. He swallows hard seeing his adam's apple rise and fall as he tries to speak, but his voice comes out softer than expected.

"Um I... Y-yes I want you to, I just...," he says, barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his tone betraying him completely.

I stand, so we now see eye to eye, though he is slightly taller, the shy bowing of his head and the shifting of his hands says that he really wants a sign; I can tell he'll take anything at this point, it's just too cute.

"Then show me... you wouldn't want to keep me waiting, would you?"

His need for control has dissolved, replaced by a new desire—to surrender, to be at my mercy. He's unraveling before me, and we both know it.