Nikki’s breathing is already uneven, coming in short, frustrated pulls. One hand is buried deep in your hair, fingers tight enough that you can feel the exact pressure of every digit.

The other is braced hard against the mattress, wrist flexed, like she’s holding herself back from simply taking over.

Her thighs frame your head, tense and restless, shifting every time your tongue misses the spot she wants.

The room is mostly dark. The only light comes from the hallway, cutting a thin line across the bed and turning the sheen of sweat on her stomach silver.

She lets you keep going for several more seconds even though it’s clearly not enough. You can feel the impatience building in the way her hips twitch and the quiet, annoyed sound she makes in the back of her throat. When she finally speaks, her voice is low and rough and completely stripped of softness.

“Lick it properly, babe.”

The words land flat. No teasing. No playful edge. Just a direct correction, the same way she used to shut down bullshit at the music store only sharper now, more personal.

Her fingers flex in your hair and guide your mouth back exactly where she wants it, holding you there so you can feel how wet she is and how little patience she has left.

“I said properly.”

She swallows, looking down at you with those dark, intense eyes that don’t blink as much as they should.

“Not the careful version. Not the polite little try-hard version. I want it the way I asked for it. Tongue flatter. Deeper. Stay on my clit and don’t you dare wander off because you think you’re being creative.”

She shifts her hips again, restless, almost agitated, and the hand in your hair tightens once more in warning.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. All day, Y/N. And you’re down there doing the half-version like I’m going to just accept it.”

A short, disbelieving breath leaves her.

“I don’t accept it. You know what I need. You’ve known since the second we started. So stop treating it like a suggestion and lick me the way you’re supposed to.”

Her voice drops even lower, almost quiet, which somehow makes it worse.

“I’m not going to say it a third time. Get it right.”