The humiliation burned hotter than any flame. Aurelia could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her weep.
Instead, she channeled that fury, that white-hot rage at being reduced to this, into a single, defiant purpose: she would dominate this moment through sheer force of will.
If she couldn't win with power, she would win with performance. She would make him surrender to her, even if it was only to the sensation she provided.
'If I mess up here, if I hesitate even once, he'll sense it,' she thought bitterly as she leaned forward, her hands gripping his muscular thighs for leverage. 'He'll think he's won completely.'
'He'll try to take control again, to treat me like some broken toy.'
'But no. Not today.'
'I swear, I'll send him reeling!'
'I'll wring him out until his balls break!'
'I'll drain every drop of his arrogance until he's the one crying and apologizing at my feet.'
