His jaw moved.
One small clench, barely visible, but Vivienne felt it like a live wire snapping tight against her skull, his fingers digging deeper into her hair with a grip that promised violence.
'There. I have him now.'
She drove her throat down harder, twisting her wrist at the thick base of his cock, lips stretched obscenely wide, saliva already drooling in thick ropes down her chin as her experienced throat opened without a hint of resistance. Her eyes locked on that clenched jaw, triumphant, knowing she was about to break him the way she'd broken dozens of powerful men before—high-society cocks that folded under her skilled mouth like cheap suits.
Then his hands moved.
Not to hold her head tighter. Not to fuck her face like the desperate boys she usually toyed with.
