He whispers into her ear. She didn’t hear exactly what he said but it doesn’t matter to her at this moment. It is his voice – low and assured – and his breath – a hint of scotch and rosemary, that sends her spinning. She thinks about this while he waits. She thinks about the hand on her back, pressing her crushed velvet dress into her sweaty spine. How fine his fingers are – how they move when he scratches his chin or pinches her nipple.

She thinks about what he looked like when he first said her name and the glint in his eye when she responded with a “yes, Sir”.

She looks down and sees his cock glistening in the candlelight. So hard, twitching. The precum looking like a pearl. “A pearl for a clam” she thinks to herself, amused.

Thwack.

“I said suck.”