My lips parted as he worked his zipper down.
“But I’m done fucking my hand to the thought of your lips wrapped around me, so…” he paused, pushing his jeans down his thick, muscular thighs. My mouth watered as the outline of his length came into view. “You’re gonna drop to your knees like a good girl.” Our eyes met, and I knew the slickness between my thighs wasn’t only from the rainwater. “Then you’re gonna reach inside my boxers and pull out my cock.”
I licked my lips, and Bishop tracked the movement. “And then what?”
He stepped forward, slowly wrapping my hair around his fist and tugging my head backward. He leaned forward, his facial hair scraping against my cheek as he whispered, “And then I’m going to fuck this pretty face of yours.”
I’d never dropped to my knees so fast in my life.
I wasn’t sure what was happening. Sure, I’d asked a few partners to pull my hair or slap my ass a time or two, but it was always half-hearted. None of them were ever dominant in theway I needed. Even when they tried, it felt awkward and forced, which made the moment so unbelievably unsexy that it ruined the whole mood.
Eventually, I gave up asking and went with the flow. It was okay—nothing to write home about, obviously. But this was a night and day difference. Bishop didn’t just talk the talk. He walked it, too. That edge came so easily to him. I was in awe of the way my mind and body wanted to please him, to obey him—even when I wanted to see how far I could push his buttons first.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and dipped inside his boxers. He hissed at the contact, but never took his eyes off me as I pulled him free and gave him one long stroke. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, and I leaned in to lick it away.
“Shit,” he groaned, weaving his fingers in my hair. He pushed in, and I laid my tongue flat, running it along the silky skin. “That fucking mouth.”
Bishop tightened his grip, guiding my head down on his length until I felt it at the back of my throat. It wasn’t even all the way in. He held me there, enjoying the sight as my eyes began to sting.
He pulled me off, letting me catch my breath. A string of saliva connected my lips and his tip. “Can you go farther, killer? Can you take me all the way?”
“I can take it,” I gasped.
“Are you sure?” he asked, stroking himself from root to tip. “I dunno if you can.”
“I said I can do it,” I pleaded, replacing his hand with my own. “Let me show you.”
Without waiting, I slid him between my lips, not stopping until I met resistance. Bishop watched me, lips parted as I pushed further, taking him down my throat until my nose brushed against his pelvis.
“Fuuuuck.” The word was long and drawn out as I struggledto keep him there. I felt his hands on my head again, guiding me and setting a tempo. He was carefully testing the limits, figuring out what was comfortable and what wasn’t.
He pulled me off, panting as he said, “Put your hands on my thighs, killer. And tap if it’s too much.”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, nodding and doing what he asked.
He groaned, and as he slid between my lips this time, he was not gentle. He wrapped my hair around his fist, pulling on the strands as he fucked my mouth with short, measured strokes that nearly made me dizzy. I felt his muscles coiling beneath my hands with each thrust, savoring the knowledge that I was the one doing this to him. Tears leaked from my eyes, but I focused on my breathing and the sounds he made.
Was it the daddy thing? Honestly, I’d seen the few times he’d tensed when I’d let the teasing name slip. Maybe it was just another way to get on his nerves, but if saying it got him this worked up… Well, what was a girl supposed to do?
My pussy was dripping. I needed something. I needed to be touched. Bishop seemed lost to his own pleasure, so I lifted one hand from his thigh and slipped it between my legs, shamelessly grinding myself down on my own fingers to soothe the ache.
The moment I brushed my clit, I moaned around his length, nearly coming on the spot. God, it felt so good. I imagined they werehisfingers,histongue,hiscock.
“Needy little slut,” he panted, pulling me off and ripping my hand from between my legs. My fingers were slick, shining with my arousal. “Did I tell you to touch yourself?”
I shook my head.
“Words, Lennox.”
“No.”
“What’d I tell you to do?”
My chest rose and fell, breasts aching as he stared me down. I forced my eyes wide to look like I was actually nervous that I’d disappointed him, but I wasn’t. I wanted him to test his limits,just like he’d been testing mine. “To keep my hands on your thighs and let you use me.”
The growl that came out sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. Bishop hadn’t said it, but I knew that was what he meant. “That’s fucking right. But you didn’t listen, did you?”
“No.” And then I smiled, biting my lip before whispering, “What will you do to me?”
