[She pulls back. He might be inclined to think she's going to pull the same stunt she had last time, taunting him with not giving him what she wants, but that's hardly her goal. Frankly, Rosalind isn't entirely certain she could do that right now; her mouth is watering already, and she licks her lips again. She can taste him there, bitter and coating her mouth, and soon enough she'll duck back in to swallow him again.

But not just yet. No, all she wants right now is the ability to speak for a moment. Whatever influence that candy-cane has on her, it isn't enough to stop her from retorting, even a little. She substitutes her mouth with her hand for a few seconds, gripping him tightly and stroking him, fingers gliding against his wet prick as she watches him.]

And here I thought you liked enthusiasm, Mr. Wolf. You certainly seemed to the last time I took you in my mouth.

[Ms. Lutece, he calls her sometimes, and she wonders why that is. She hardly minds it; quite the opposite, point in fact. But she wonders if it's meant as a quiet taunt or if he simply likes the veneer of politeness to contrast with the filth of what they're doing.]

Do you want me to go slower?

[She leans in. Her lipstick, despite his ministrations, isn't yet wiped away; she runs her lips over the tip of his cock, letting the pre smear over her lips, a startling contrast to the dark red lipstick.]

Tell me.