YEARN (Ch 15) [The Edge of Control]

Chapter 15

The Edge of Control

Teyonah

 

Dominic licked his lips. “You look so sexy naked.”

I didn’t even know what to do with that. How long had it been since a man said that to me?

Too fucking long.

His thumb grazed a coppery stretch mark along my belly.

I tried to move his hand.

He sneered and put it right back, tracing it as if he were following an important bible scripture. “See this?”

“It’s a stretchmark.”

“It’s vascular artistry. Scar tissue is stronger than unbroken skin—it means you heal better than most. You’re engineered resilience.”

“What?” My laugh came out broken, confused. I didn’t know if he was diagnosing me or devouring me.

He brought his hand up to my breast and then pinched my nipple, making me gasp. “It means you’re built to withstand me. That’s what excites me the most, Mommy.”

I moaned. “Oh.”

He rubbed my nipple. “Your body isn’t fragile. You see stretch marks. I see lightning bolts, proof your body is strong enough to break and still hold my hunger.”

God help me.

I shuddered, my pussy clenching, because he was turning the parts of me I’d hated into something erotic.

For the first time in many years, I felt that I wasn’t broken or ruined.

Maybe I was sexy and dangerous because I could make this gorgeous, muscular man unhinged.

I yearned for him.

I craved more of his touch.

He turned the rose back on and had it on my clit.

“Oh God!”

“So nasty, Mommy.” His voice was raspy, low, and cruel. “Touching yourself in the shower. Moaning while you held that little toy. Acting like a filthy, wet whore.”

“Oh.” Shame and heat collided in my chest.

He moved the rose away from my clit, torturing me by having the vibration tease along my folds. “The only problem is that I’m not sure if you know that you’re only my filthy whore.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know that, Mommy?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it. Tell me, Mommy that you’re my filthy whore.”

“I’m your filthy whore.”

“Good job, Mommy.” He pressed the rose directly to my swollen clit, letting the vibration settle until my thighs quivered, and then the bastard pulled it away just as my hips arched for more.

“Damn it.” I trembled.

He sneered at me. “You’re my goddess. My whore. My Mommy. My fucking everything. Do you understand?”

A shiver tore through me. “We should be talking about this—”

“We’re done talking. That conversation ended when you had me coming all over your hand last night.” He pressed the toy closer, forcing a sharp moan out of me. “From now on, you’ll come when I allow it. You’ll beg for me when I make you starve. And when I’m done, when you’re broken and shaking, you’ll still be my filthy sexy whore.”

Why did those words make my clit throb harder?

Filthy whore.

It should have made me flinch. Instead it cracked something open and poured heat straight into my belly. It was the sound of his voice too—dark, low, uncoiled.

It was also the way he said Mommy in the same breath.

Ro’s voice came back, explaining how dirty talk hit the brain like a drug, how the right curse word in the right moment could spike dopamine and scramble shame into arousal.

“Oh, Mommy.” He pinned the toy against my clit with the barest pressure, enough to spark a moan, then lifted it away and watched me whimper. “You’re my filthy, precious whore. And I’ll starve you until you scream for it.”

“Oh fuck, baby.”

The word whore rolled through me like an electric pulse.

So insane in erotic bliss, I imagined Ro in the corner of the bathroom, wide-eyed and proud, holding her own little toy while she watched Dominic ruin me. Ro with that sexy dark brown skin close to midnight.

Lush and bold.

Hips thick.

Soft, ass big.

Lips parted as the hum of her vibrator echoed between her thighs.

And then—God help me—Cadence flashed into the same thought. Cadence with her lighter skin and huge soft breasts, pressing against Ro’s curves, their bodies slick with steam as they watched Dominic own the shit out of me.

And it turned them on.

Dominic tapped the rose in quick bursts over my clit.

“Oh!”

Then, he hovered it just above, letting the hum taunt me without touching.

“Dominic, please.”

“Keep begging.”

“Please touch me. Please fuck me.”

“Say sorry for not coming back down last night.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy should have come back down.”

“You think I got any sleep?”

“N-no.”

“All I thought about was these sexy breasts.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry. Maybe. . .” I shivered. “Mommy, can give you some pussy to feel better.”

“Nice try.” He cruelly teased me by holding the rose just off-center, grazing the edges of my clit so that I had to grind into it to feel more.

“Oh. Oh.”

“My nasty, filthy, sexy whore.” He gave me one sharp pulse of vibration against the tip of my clit.

I jolted in shock. “Fuck!”

Then, he cruelly dragged it down the seam of my folds, denying me the pressure I needed.

“Ohhhhhh.” My body buzzed uncontrollably.

It was insane what he was doing to me.

Every time the rose touched and left, every time he circled instead of pressed, my body went somewhere I didn’t even know existed.

My clit pulsed like it had its own heartbeat. This all stopped feeling like a shower, like an erotic fight, with a man and a toy.

It became trembling heat and blissful weightlessness as if the steam were lifting me right off the tile.

I was floating.

Floating in some filthy heaven where shame dissolved and all I could do was breathe and moan.

“Oh my God. . .” My head lolled back against the tile.

My mouth hung open. “Ohhh.”

The sound that came out of me wasn’t even a moan anymore—it was something broken and grateful, a noise I didn’t know I could make.

God, this was a high.

A fever-dream.

My nipples ached.

My thighs shook so hard I thought they’d give out.

The world narrowed to his hands, the hum of the rose, and my body trying to chase release it couldn’t quite catch.

I reached for him without thinking, fingers fumbling at his soaked belt, trying to free his cock because I needed him, needed skin instead of silicone, needed him to fill me.

But he caught my wrists and pushed them back against the tile.

“No.” A growl low in his throat. “You had your chance last night—”

“Baby, I’m sorry—”

“I know you are. Still, you don’t touch. You don’t take. You float where I keep you until I say.”

The denial hit me harder than the toy itself, and a helpless sound tore out of my throat as the vibration kissed my clit again, just enough to keep me trembling in that bright, dizzy place where I couldn’t tell if I was about to come or cry.

Then, the bastard took it away.

“I feel—” I broke off with a sharp gasp as another tremor crawled up my thighs. “Dominic. . .God, I feel high. Like I’m floating. Why do I feel like this?”

He didn’t even blink. “Because I’m keeping you on the edge. Every time I hold you back, your pelvic floor contracts and traps blood in the erectile tissue of your vagina. Your clitoral bulbs are engorged; the nerve endings in your vestibular region are hyper-sensitized. Dopamine spikes, prolactin dips, oxytocin floods, and your vagus nerve tricks your brain into thinking it’s getting a narcotic.”

I stared at him, blinking steam out of my eyes. “What?”

“You heard me.”

A laugh bubbled out of me, wicked and breathless. “Baby, I have no idea what the hell you just said.”

He wickedly grinned, slow and dark, still holding me at the edge. “All it means, Mommy, is that I’ve hacked your body chemistry. Your pussy’s high, your brain’s high, and I’m the one controlling the dose. Say thank you.”

“T-thank you.” My laugh turned into a moan. “Oh God. . .”

“That’s right.” His grin sharpened. “Science, Mommy. You’re my experiment, and you love it because you’re my filthy whore.”

“I do.”

His words, a deft combination of filthy and scientific, flowed into my ears like he was pouring warm honey into my brain.

“God. . .thank you,” I repeated, and my voice was a whisper, barely discernible over the running water and the hum of the rose.

He rewarded my words with a slow, taunting circle of the rose over my pulsing clit.

“Oh!”

The stimulation was more intense this time, more prolonged.

My fingers clenched against the cool tile of the shower wall, my knuckles whitening as I fought to keep my moans from turning into screams.

And my fever dream rose, darkening and twisting into something forbidden.

Ro and Cadence reappeared within the steam while Dominic played with my nipples and kept the rose against my clit, transforming my mind into a delirious playground.

Ro’s dark skin against Cadence’s pale curves. Big breasts rubbing up and down against each other. Their nipples hardening. Their hands sliding along their wet pussies.

Thighs rubbing.

The filthy wet sounds their bodies made between their desperate moans.

Two sexy women moving against each other, while watching Dominic play with my pussy.

My arousal dripped down my thighs.

My pulse climbed.

I didn’t know if I was gasping from the toy or from my own filthy imagination, but I couldn’t stop.

Dominic had made me so far gone that shame and fantasy had fused, and every breath felt like an edge.

Then, he took the toy away and pinched my nipple hard. “Beg.”

I shivered. “You are a very bad boy.”

He chuckled low, and the sound was a delicious shiver down my spine. “Bad? No, Mommy. A bad boy would never make you this high.”

I had nothing to say because he was fucking right. I felt like I had inhaled two joints and drunk a shot of tequila.

“Beg.”

“Please, Dominic.”

“That’s right. Say it softer.”

“Dominic. . .please. I want you to make me come.”

“You’re floating because of me. High because of me. When you finally come, it won’t just be an orgasm, it’ll be a collapse—my science, my filth, my worship all at once.”

“Oh God.”

“Beg for your dose, Mommy. Beg for the experiment to end.”

“P-please. . .”

He bent close, his mouth at my ear. “Always. . .I’ll feed you pleasure like medicine. One pulse at a time. And when you break, you’ll thank your doctor for making you a beautiful, filthy whore. Won’t you, Mommy?”

“Y-yes.”

“Are you going to be good next time, Mommy?”

“Yes, baby.”

“When I tell you to come back down and let me eat that sweet pussy, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to walk, I’m going to run down.”

He smirked. “Running might make you fall.”

“I don’t care. I wouldn’t want you to wait.”

“Hmmm.” This wicked lust covered his face as he returned to his steady rhythm of teasing and denial, the intensity of each cycle climbing higher and higher, like a never-ending staircase. The lack of release was both cruel and enthralling, yanking me further and further from the reality of the shower, the bathroom, the world outside.

I felt as though I existed solely in this space he'd created, this wickedly erotic space where the only constant was the relentless throb between my thighs.

In fact, the pressure became unbearable. Waves of pleasure crashed against me, making my knees buckle, and my moans turned into high-pitched whimpers. They bounced off the walls, filling the steamy bathroom with my need.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

“Come for me, Mommy.” He watched with cruel fascination. “Show me how you sound when a strong orgasm hits you.”

“Oh! Oh!”

Dominic adjusted the toy again, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

My body jerked involuntarily, reacting to the merciless pleasure he inflicted.

Tension coiled tighter within my body, building, building, threatening to snap at any moment. The slick sounds of the toy against my needy pussy were achingly loud over the shower spray.

"Does this feel good, Mommy?"

“Fuck yes.” And then right when before the orgasm was about to hit me, he took it away.

So pissed, I glared at him. “Damn it!”

My hips betrayed my delirious hunger and tilted forward, slipping into a slow, shameful roll against nothing.

“Stop it, Dominic. You told me to come for you. Now let me.”

He watched my pussy bucking against nothing and groaned. “No. Stay still.”

“I can’t help it.”

He licked his lips and put the toy back on my clit. “You’re making me even more jealous when you move. Stay still.”

I couldn’t.

I pressed my pussy closer, desperate for the vibration to hit deeper, harder.

Then, without warning, he snatched the toy back an inch, and the loss of it was so sharp I gasped. “Dominic!”

My knees buckled.

He held me up. “You think I came up here to give you what you want? No. I came up here to teach you what happens when you try to come without me.”

I tried to appear innocent. “But I think I learned my lesson now. Jesus Christ! I already told you I would run back down. I think you’ve punished me enough.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps, you have learned your lesson.” He brought the rose back.

“Oh!” My breath broke into pieces. “Oh! That feels so good, baby!”

“You like this, Mommy?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a good boy.” My body trembled. “Oh. Oh.”

I sagged against the tile with a gasp.

And then finally—after all the denial, all the hovering, all the pulling away—he pressed the toy down and worked my pussy straight into my orgasm.

“OHHH!!!”

It tore out of me, jagged and helpless. My body convulsed so hard I nearly slid down the slick tile, every nerve ending detonating in a chain reaction I couldn’t control.

My thighs clamped and shuddered.

My belly tightened into a sharp knot, then unraveled in wild, pulsing waves.

My scream broke into a sob.

My whole body lit up like fireworks exploding too close to the skin—white heat, violent color, sparks running down my legs and up my spine until my teeth ached from clenching.

The world disappeared.

Steam blurred.

Water vanished.

There was only the vibration, his grip, and the brutal sweetness of release slamming through me again and again until I was wrung out, trembling, drenched in delirium.

“OHHHHH!!!!”

He held me up with those strong muscular arms as the aftershocks ripped through my belly and spread like fire under my skin. It was all a brutal flood of remaining pleasure that stole the air from my lungs.

I gasped.

Then, I sobbed against him, unaware of why. . .

Still, Dominic’s arm held me up, and his chest was a wet wall against me. “That’s it, Mommy. That’s it. Release it all. You’re too perfect too hold it all in.”

The praise cracked me deeper.

More tears left my eyes as I sagged into him, body limp and wet, thighs still twitching from even more aftershocks. My clit was now super sensitive.

Oh my God. . .

I had never come this hard in my life.

And all I could think about was that. . .I had really needed this release.

Not just today.

Not just this week.

But all year.

My body had been wound so tight it was like I had been carrying a scream inside my skin, one that no one had ever heard.

A scream Scott never cared to notice.

A scream the world kept telling me to swallow down and cover with a smile.

But here, in Dominic’s arms, I wasn’t choking it back anymore.

Here, I was allowed to break.

To shake.

To come apart in a way that wasn’t ugly or shameful, but holy.

And every rugged tremor through my body was proof that I wasn’t ruined in the most breathtaking ways. Proof that I could still feel fire and tenderness, even after being dragged through so much cold.

With Dominic, I wasn’t just coming—I was reclaiming myself.

Piece by piece.

Moan by moan.

Pulse by pulse.

And when the aftershocks finally slowed, leaving me weak and shivering in his hold, what startled me most wasn’t the orgasm. It was the quiet peace after—the sense that for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t braced for the next blow.

The storm inside me had eased.

The knots that Scott and the world had left behind had loosened.

Fuck. . .even my nervous system felt rewired and renewed.

I felt. . .healed.

Maybe not whole.

But close.

And that was enough to make me cling tighter to Dominic, because no one had ever given me that before.

“Silly, Mommy,” he whispered against my ear. “Didn’t that feel good?”

“I-it. . .did. . .” I still couldn’t hold myself up, but he had me in his huge muscular arms.

“Don’t ever run from my giving yourself pleasure again. You deserve it. You’re good mother. You’re an amazing woman. When I want to eat your pussy until you scream, you take it. And not because it’s me, but because you are my queen and you are worthy.”

I closed my eyes and trembled.

Fuck. . .he’s perfect. How did I get him? God. . .did you do this?

I truly needed him, and it scared me.

Because need was dangerous.

Need meant full surrender.

Need meant I couldn’t keep performing the little act I’d been perfecting for years—the strong, unbothered hardworking Black woman who didn’t want for anything she couldn’t give herself.

For so long since he arrived in my life, I’d told myself the distance between us was logic. That keeping a wall up, holding myself back, was smart, measured, self-preservation.

That I was protecting my kids, my heart, my sanity.

I’d convinced myself that the trembling in my stomach whenever I thought of him was a warning, not a hunger.

But standing there, trembling and undone, I could feel the truth crawling up my spine and settling in my chest like a confession: It had never been logic.

It had always been fear.

Fear of being seen the way he saw me now—stripped, vulnerable, every flaw illuminated and worshipped.

Fear of letting someone hold the part of me that had been bruised and discarded so many times before.

Fear of what it would mean if I stopped running, when all I was used to was running.

Need meant I couldn’t pretend anymore.

Couldn’t pretend this was just sex, just release, just a fling.

Need meant I was already his, whether I admitted it out loud or not.

Oh God. . .this is really why I didn’t go back downstairs. . .

My chest ached, my throat grew tight with something deeper, scarier, and more precious.

It was the rise of new love.

I’m here again. Can my broken heart take this?

My body felt alive in his arms, but my heart was shaking, whispering words I wasn’t ready to say.

How am I going to make this work?

Because I didn’t just want him for tonight, or for the high, or for the fantasy.

I wanted him in my life.

In my mornings.

In my chaos.

In the small, ordinary places where the world had once felt empty.

I wanted him. . .forever.

The word pulsed through me like another heartbeat.

Forever.