[He can sense her inner scheming, yet he cannot find it in himself to care one way or the other. Let her do her worst-- he finds he'd like to see it.

The pat was affectionate enough-- though coming from him, it wouldn't be difficult to mistake for something more condescending, nor would he be offended over such an interpretation.

There is no proving whether her enjoyment comes from the act itself or the fact that she's getting to toy with him. But it works wonders on his restraint. It is small at first; cracks in the foundation... but when she takes the entirety of his cock into her mouth, his voice cracks and his fingers tighten in her hair. Any less guarded and he might have spilled there.

How embarrassing that would have been.

But he manages to repress it, only just. It does nothing to hide the sound he'd made-- so raw as he was overpowered by her. And there was a certain turn on in that. Winning was lovely, sure, but she-- she was better.]

No more games... I know you can do better than that. Don't pretend you aren't dying to drink your fill. We both want this.

[An offer of a truce-- for them both to get what they want. Come tomorrow they could pretend this never happened. They would return, even, and both satisfied.]