The suite was just as he'd described -- soft lighting, nothing too showy, everything in clean lines and warm neutrals. A king-sized bed sat in the centre of the space like a quiet promise.
She stood just inside the doorway, clutching her purse like it might anchor her. Her fingers felt cold. Her cunt, however, ached -- hot, needy, ready in a way she hadn't expected.
Jake didn't move fast. He locked the door, then turned to her with that same grounded calm he always carried in their messages, their calls.
"I'm glad you came," he said, voice low, but steady.
Sienna nodded, her lips parting like she wanted to speak -- then closing again.
Jake watched her closely. The way her breath caught. The flicker of hesitation in her eyes. He could read it all -- the nervous energy vibrating beneath her stillness, the heat rising in her cheeks, the way her thighs pressed a little closer together as she stood there.
She was turned on. And terrified. Not of him -- but of wanting something she'd convinced herself she didn't need anymore.
He stepped forward, careful not to crowd her. Just enough to let her feel his presence. To let her choose whether to meet it.
His voice dropped, low and certain.
"You don't need to hide from me. Not here. Not tonight."
Her breath stuttered -- not fear, not quite -- more like being seen too clearly. Too intimately.
"I'm not here to rush you," he said, softer now. "But I am going to show you how much I want you. And I'm not going to pretend I don't know how wet you are right now."
A flush crept up her neck. Her eyes met his for a second -- then dropped, then flicked back again, as if unsure whether to stay or run.
She felt naked. Not because he'd touched her -- he hadn't even stepped that close -- but because of how completely he was seeing her. Every curve she tried to hide, every doubt she carried on her skin -- he looked at her like none of it scared him. Like it excited him.
And somehow, that was almost harder to stand than if he'd stripped her bare.
"You're safe here," he said, his voice steady. "Sienna, we move at your pace. Whether it's everything or nothing tonight -- that's up to you. If it takes time, if we build this slowly, I'm not going anywhere."
God. That steadiness. That ease. It was unraveling her faster than any push or pull could have.
"I don't really know how to be around this kind of energy anymore," she said softly, eyes dropping from his. "Sexy. Intense. Erotic. It's been a long time."
She sighed, and he could see it -- not just nerves, but something heavier. Shame, maybe. Regret.
"The last time I was with a man... I was twenty-one. And I wasn't in a good place."
Her fingers found the hem of her dress, worrying it between them.
"I thought I had to give my body to be wanted. That if I didn't make it easy -- if I didn't just let them take what they wanted -- they'd lose interest. And a lot of them did anyway."
She paused, breathing in, holding it for a moment before letting it go.
"I'm not that girl anymore. I know that. But I don't know how to be with a man without slipping back into her. And I'm scared I will."
Jake's gaze didn't flinch. He looked at her the same way he had when she sent that first picture -- the one she nearly deleted a dozen times before hitting send.
The one where her dress clung to her curves and her eyes didn't quite meet the lens. The one that made his cock twitch the second he opened it. He had immediately pictured peeling her open, slowly, tentatively -- or tying her in silk to a four-poster bed and leaving her spread out for him, trembling and aching.
But not tonight. Tonight she needed something else.
So he swallowed it down -- that want, those fantasies. They could wait.
"You don't need to apologise for anything," he said, voice low but certain. "You're here. That's enough."
He gave her a moment. Let the silence breathe between them -- not empty, but full of everything unspoken.
Then, softer -- but with a thread of steel beneath it: "Take your coat off."
It wasn't a demand. But it wasn't a question, either. It was an invitation. A line drawn -- not to cross, but to step toward.
She didn't say anything -- just slipped her coat off and laid it carefully over the arm of the chair. When she turned back toward him, Jake had already stepped closer. His presence filled the space between them now -- warm, solid, certain.
"I'm going to help you relax," he said, his voice rougher now, the softness edged with something darker.
Her breath caught, chest rising a little faster.
"I'm not going to ask you to undress," he added, slower this time. "And I'm not going to undress you myself. Not tonight. I want you to feel comfortable first -- in your body, in this space, in us."
Something in her softened at that. He saw it -- the way her shoulders dipped just a little, the weight in her chest shifting.
"I want you to lie down on the bed for me," he continued, tone calm but unmistakably in charge. "Head at the top. Arms above you."
She hesitated -- just a flicker -- then obeyed, moving across the room like she wasn't sure whether she was dreaming. The sheets were cool beneath her thighs as she sat, then eased herself down.
As she reclined, the hem of her dress slid higher -- just a few inches -- but enough to reveal the dark band of her stockings against bare skin.
Jake's jaw tightened. His cock twitched, heavy and immediate, at the sight.
She stretched out slowly, her fingers trembling as she reached up, arms above her head, hands searching for something solid to anchor her.
"Good," he said, low and quiet. "Now hold on to the top rail. Keep your hands there. Don't let go. Understood?"
Her thighs pressed together involuntarily.
"Yes," she whispered.
He didn't smile. Just nodded once -- and then knelt at the edge of the bed, hands sliding slowly up her calves, parting them with deliberate care.
Her breath hitched as he hooked his fingers beneath the hem of her dress, slowly drawing it up over her hips. He didn't rush. He just watched her -- every sharp inhale, every flush rising beneath her skin -- drinking in the way her body betrayed her nerves.
And with each soft gasp, he imagined her getting just a little wetter for him.
"No one's touched you in a long time, have they?" he murmured.
She shook her head, biting her lip.
"That's about to change."
And then he leaned in -- hot breath, soft lips -- pressing his mouth to the silk of her panties with a slow, deliberate drag of his tongue. He could feel the heat of her through the fabric. The wetness. The throb.
He moved a finger and gently pulled her panties to one side. She gasped, hips jerking at the contact, her knuckles going white where they clutched the top rail. He didn't stop. He growled low in his throat, his other hand sliding firmly under her thighs to anchor her, to keep her exactly where he wanted her. He tried hard not to grip her in a way that scared her. Right now he knew he had to be slow.
Then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to speak -- voice rough, close to her skin.
"Don't let go."
With that, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties -- she jumped, her heart leapt. The fabric clung for a moment, damp and unwilling, before he eased it down her hips, baring her inch by inch.
She tensed as the cool air hit her -- exposed, trembling -- but she didn't move.
Jake's gaze flicked up, locking onto hers.
"Good girl," he said, low and sure.
The words landed like a lightning strike. Her breath hitched. A soft, broken moan slipped from her throat -- shocked out of her, like it had bypassed her brain entirely. She hadn't expected that. Not the heat that pulsed at the sound of those two simple words.
Jake saw it -- the way her eyes widened just a little, lips parting, the flush blooming deeper across her chest. A slow smile curved at the corner of his mouth. A knowing smile.
"You liked that," he murmured. "Didn't you."
She didn't answer. Couldn't. But she didn't deny it either.
Then he lowered his mouth again -- this time to bare skin. No silk between them now. Just her soaked cunt, flushed and trembling, spread open for him. She tasted as delicious as he had imagined. He didn't hesitate. He didn't tease. He buried his face in her like he was starving -- tongue sliding through her slick folds, lips wrapping around her clit and sucking hard enough to make her cry out.
Sienna jerked under him, her whole body jolting at the contact, hands flying tight around the top rail. Her thighs tried to close, instinctive, overwhelmed -- but he held her open, firm and unrelenting, his hands gripping her hips like he owned them.
"Fuck," she gasped, voice high and breaking.
He growled against her -- low and dirty -- tongue flicking quick and relentless over her clit, then plunging inside her with wet, obscene precision.
She was shaking, knuckles white, cunt dripping for him, every muscle strung tight like a live wire.
And still, she didn't let go. Because he'd told her not to.
Her orgasm hit like a crack of thunder -- sharp, brutal, unstoppable. Her hips bucked against his mouth, a strangled cry ripping from her throat as she came, hard, grinding down on his face like her body had no other choice.
Jake held her through it, riding out every twitch, every gasp, every helpless, shattered moan.
And when she finally slumped back, breathless and wrecked, he looked up at her -- lips wet, eyes dark with heat.
"Good fucking girl."
She blinked up at him, dazed.
"I could feel it," he murmured, brushing a thumb along her jaw. "Your cunt gave me almost everything, but the rest of you?"
A pause. His eyes held hers, unblinking.
"Still holding back. Still a little locked up here."
He tapped her temple gently, then let his fingers trail down her throat.
His thumb drifted to her bottom lip, tracing it slowly.
"I think," he said, voice darkening just a touch, "I seem to remember you telling me -- about how men used to say you had the best mouth they'd ever fucked."
Her breath stilled, cheeks flushing deep.
He smiled.
"I'm not going to fuck your mouth tonight," he said, quieter now. "Not hard, anyway."
He leaned in, his voice right against her ear -- warm, commanding.
"But I am going to feel it."
She gulped.
