"Make me."

Those had been the two words you had uttered, mostly in jest and to test the limits of Sylus' seemingly endless patience. Yet, Sylus saw it as a challenge. Never one to deny you of your indulgences, Sylus took it upon himself to provide you with a hands-on teachable moment. So here you were.

Sylus watched you through his hazy heavy-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide enough to eclipse his usual ruby red irises. His fingers twitched with restraint as they simply rested on your hips. He was close to reaching the end of his patience but he would have been lying if he didn't say it was worth the wait. You looked like the most sinfully delightful picture straddling his thigh. His legs were spread wide across his ornate lounge to accommodate you and he leaned back against the plush cushions so he could drink in your form in all its glory. Your hips dragged back and forth across his thick, muscular thigh as you chased the friction you so desperately needed. Each flex of his muscles sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, his subtle reminder of his strength and power making you pool with desire between your legs. Your face was flushed with a dusting of pink across your cheeks and chest, mouth open in a perpetual 'o' shape as you grinded down onto Sylus' ruined dress pants. You had half the mind to feel bad for ruining what was likely expensive fabric, but it wasn't like Sylus couldn't afford to replace them anyway.

"Use your words, beloved. Would you like some help?"

His voice was deep, laced with a rough growl stemming from his own arousal. Above all that, he was amused. He could see the desperate way you canted your hips, not quite enough friction to take you over the edge but enough to have you whining and whimpering on his thigh.