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It makes me ache even more for him. Not just because of who he is, but because he's so thoughtful. So I take his hand in mine, uncurling his fist, and then place it in my hair. "I want you to touch me," I tell him softly. "I need you to show me how much you like when I pleasure you, because I like it. It feeds my arousal, too. I love hearing your breath catch. I love hearing you call out my name." I lean in and rub my face against his cock, like a kitten, and glance up at him. "And if I want to stop or I'm scared, I'll tell you. I promise."
"You…want me to touch you?"
"More than anything," I whisper.
His hand creaks again as it tightens in my hair, and I fight back a little moan. Oh god, yes. That's exactly what I want.
"This…doesn't make you feel like a slave?" he asks. "I don't want you to feel—"
"It's different," I promise him. "This is freely given, not taken. That's the difference." I look up at him and can't resist licking the head of his cock again, letting my tongue drag against the closest piercing. "Just because I like hearing you call me a good girl doesn't mean I want to be a slave."
He groans, his pupils blown, and he rubs at my scalp before tangling his hand in my hair again. "Did you like that?"
I whimper, nodding, and lick his cock again frantically. "So much."
"Because you know I'll take care of you?"
Maybe that's it. Maybe it just emphasizes how safe I feel with him that I let him have control over me in the bedroom, just a little. I make an eager noise in my throat and suck on the head of his cock again, working his sac with my hand.
Jerrok's voice is rough and raspy as he holds my face against his cock, sending a searing bolt of heat through my body in response. "You're so keffing pretty when you do that."
I moan, frantically trying to take him into my mouth. I can fit the head just a little, but the piercings make me stop before getting far. Instead, I suck on the head as tightly as I can and pump his shaft once, roughly.
He lets out a low hiss.
"I want to make you come," I tell him eagerly. I want him to get that same release that he's given me, even if he didn't touch me. They still feel like his orgasms as well as mine, because he coached me through them. I want to share this one with him, too. I rub my face against his cock, gazing up at him. "What do you like?"
Jerrok closes his eyes, and his hand strokes my cheek. "I like everything. Kef me, everything." His cock presses slightly against my mouth even as he says this, and I'm not even sure if Jerrok realizes what he's doing. It makes me giddy, though, and I latch onto him again, licking and sucking, my hands on his shaft as if I can somehow ignore physics and feed him all the way down my throat with sheer enthusiasm.
I hear his breath catch, and then the taste of salt is in my mouth. I can feel him tense, his tail flicking madly behind him. "Wait," he grits out. "Do you want me—"
I take him deeper, because I already know the answer to that question, and I suck hard.
With a gasp, Jerrok thrusts into my mouth. He shuttles the head against my tongue, his hips jerking, and then he comes, his entire body groaning with the force of his release. His hand moves to my hair, tightening there as seed spills over my tongue and down the sides of my mouth, and I lap up as much as I can, cleaning him. I love the shudders that move through him, accompanied with a fresh wave of his taste, and when he finally pulls free from my mouth, he's panting and there's a dazed look on his face.
I swipe at my lips, gazing up at him. I'm practically squirming in my seat, because I need to hear that I did everything right, that he liked all of it. That he's never come so hard before. I don't know when I turned into this person in constant need of praise, but when he lets out a little huff of a laugh and gives me a warm look, it feels better than anything.
"Kef me, you're beautiful," Jerrok whispers, cupping my face in his hands. He gazes down at me with wonder, like he's never seen anything like me in his life.
I might just become utterly addicted to that sort of look.
He kneels on the floor in front of me, and I feel a pang of distress at the effort it takes him. I hate that his limbs are so terrible, when it's something so easily fixed with money. It's so unfair. But he kisses me with the most gentle of touches, and his eyes meet mine. "Now can I touch you?"
