He loved to do that, the smug little brat. I don't come on command— not really. I was already so close, trembling right on the edge until it became nearly painful, and he just happened to pick just the right moment to give his permission. It was a coincidence.

Who am I kidding?

"Fuck, fuck," I whimpered, going tense, everything seeming to go still for just a moment before I came with a strangled shout. I made a mess of him, just as I promised, streaks hitting his belly, his chest, a splatter landing in the hollow of his throat.