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I wonder what he looks like saying such softened words of encouragement. Are his eyes closed while he’s lost in whatever fantasy he’s imagining in his mind?
He most certainly isn’t envisioning me as the bringer of his pleasure.
In this signed predicament, that would be but a dream.
“This arrangement doesn’t have to be agonizing, you know?” he offers as I keep bobbing up and down his length, listening to how his breath hitches. “If you play your cards right, this can be more than a deal.”
He moans and lets his hand drop entirely from my scalp, giving me reign to take control and bring him to the edge of ecstasy he craves.
I don’t delay.
Wrapping my hand around his cock, I begin to move faster while applying a bit of pressure with my tightened grip.
He can’t hide how it drives him closer to what he needs. Builds the pulsing thrill of pleasure that will riddle him any moment now.
Removing my hand when his grunts get closer together, I take him all the way in my mouth, making his body tense while his moan is loud and needy.
“Fuck,” he curses, proving how close he is.
It may be a mindfuck, but I want to make him shoot his load into my mouth. To prove I can perform like an entertainer who goes the extra mile to make their client leave their care in pure satisfaction.
That pushes me to do something I’ve never tried.
At least not sober.
With a moan of my own, I sink all the way down on his cock and hold it, taking the chance to grab his balls and squeeze them enough to send this man into a rigid frenzy.
“Christ!” he hisses, and there it is.
Shots of his hot release begin to flow down my throat. He pulls his length just slightly, allowing for more of his cum to fill my mouth while he’s fighting for breath.
When he pulls out entirely, I don’t hesitate to open my mouth again. It has to be an expectation; at least, that’s what my instincts tell me.
“Now, no maiden of Leighton has ever had the balls to work a Ruthless King’s cock like that,” he dares to reveal, his breath still fighting to slow. “Your performance was unexpectedly pleasant, Defiant Canary.”
I feel his closeness—lips pressing lightly on my cheek before they trail to my left ear.
“Swallow for me, Canary,” he orders, and how I do exactly what he asks for. Slowly, knowing he’ll watch every second with the eyes of a hawk.
What I don’t expect is for my arms to be lifted above my head, my hands pressed against the headboard thanks to his grip that tightens around my wrists. I also don’t expect to feel his lips speak against mine.
“Obey when I need you to, Verena, and I promise this arrangement will beverypleasurable for the both of us,” he vows like it’s a true promise he’s willing to keep. “Then you can be my Sweet Canary both outdoors and indoors.”
“And…if I don’t?” I dare to breathe. This closeness without sight is driving my body into sensual overdrive.
“Then I’ll enjoy making my defiant canary suffer quite nicely,” he assures me. “At least, until you remember who has the key to your eloquent cage.”
Then he kisses me.
8
ARE WE PLAYING CHESS OR CHECKERS
~WARREN~
“Our Sweet Canary seems to live up to her new name.”
Keeping my presence hidden is becoming tedious.
