When he notches his cock closer to me, I apply a last bit of moisture to my lips before accepting him into my mouth. His groan when I swivel my tongue around his knob carries straight through to my dripping core. He tastes delicious. A little salty, and very manly, but delicious all the same.
“Slither your tongue on the underside of my cock. It will help you take me deeper. I want as much of me inside of you as possible.”
Nodding, I loosen the tight grip of my jaw before sliding my tongue along his silky shaft. He rocks into me slowly, but speed has nothing to do with my inability to fit all of him inside my mouth. He’s too long. Too thick. Too goddamn crazy if he thinks I’ll ever be able to swallow all of him.
“Relax your throat, Zariah. Accept me inside you.” The tears I feel pricking my eyes from him stretching my throat nearly fall when he murmurs, “You think this is painful? Imagine when I claim your virginal cunt and ass. You’re going to feel me in every orifice you have for months.”
I’m not crying in panic. I’m relieved. Being a virgin in this industry isn’t a godly feature. More times than not, it causes more harm than it does good.
When the head of Asher’s cock hits the back of my throat, I gag. I assume that’s the wrong thing for me to do until Asher praises it. “I’ve waited over a decade to hear you gagging on my cock. It was better than I hoped, but if you want to reduce the likelihood of it happening, tilt your head back and breathe through your nose.”
He sinks in another inch when I follow his instructions to the letter. He’s deeper now, but it doesn’t feel as foreign. It gives me that same near-asphyxiation feeling I experienced when he clutched my throat, but in a more enthralling way.
“Your throat is designed to swallow, Zariah, so swallow my cock.”
He pumps in and out of me on repeat, inching more of his big dick in with each grind. I still gag through most of his strokes, but they’re barely heard over my moans. He tastes much better than the unripe banana I practiced on when I was a lonely teen preparing to die a virgin. He smells good too. If he wasn’t taking all of the control, I’d mark my face with his manly scent.
My jaw is aching, but I don’t give in. I use my hand to work the sections of his cock missing out on the heat of my mouth and switch my tongue between licking the seam feeding his penis and lapping up the goodness pooling at the tip.
I may be a novice, but it doesn’t take long for me to grab hold of the ropes. Asher’s grunts help. I adjust my technique when they soften and continue when they strengthen. I thought being on my knees would make me feel weak and pathetic. I was wrong. I have Asher at my complete mercy. I’ve never felt more powerful. Right here, right now, nothing but me is on his mind, and the feeling is euphoric.
When Asher’s callused finger strokes my cheek a few minutes later, I raise my eyes to his. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
Forgetting this is supposed to be a punishment, I stupidly nod.
I whimper when my wordless confession is quickly followed by the removal of Asher’s cock from my mouth. He’s leaving me hanging—again. I tug down the high rise of the slit in my dress when he leans over the desk he used as a spanking table to hit a button on a black box.
“Switch off all camera devices in my office.”
The voice that replies is crackled by static, but I still recognize it. It is Asher’s head of security, Knox. “Do you think that is wise? The party is in full swing. You have a lot of enemies in that room, boss.”
“Enemies that will be no concern of yours when I send Matvei in there to take care of the business you can’t.”
Awareness that Knox did as requested trickles through me when Asher prowls back to stand in front of me. He has the same predatory gleam his eyes held in the seconds leading to his tongue slicing through my pussy, and his cock is even thicker than it was when it was in my mouth.
“Take everything off but your heels. I want to feel them digging into my back when I claim you as mine.”
With trembling thighs, I stand to remove my dress. Asher doesn’t help me undress; he just watches me with heavy-hooded eyes. When my gown puddles around my feet, his knuckles go white from the firm hold he has on his desk. He’s restraining himself from touching me. For what reason? I don’t know.
But I do know one thing: it makes me as hot as hell. If he doesn’t touch me soon, I may have to touch myself. I doubt I’ll bring myself to climax, but I’m willing to try anything if it lightens the roaring buzz droning through my ears.
His restraint is mesmerizing when my bra falls to the floor without so much as a clatter. I should feel vulnerable standing in front of him with nothing but sheer, slicked panties and a pair of heels from his cousin’s hooker collection, but I don’t. I’m feeling far from modest. I feel sexy, and wanted. . .and perhaps a little unhinged. If I hadn’t known Asher for longer than we were enemies, I’d be worried the feeling I’m developing for him is some form of Stockholm Syndrome. That’s how crazy he makes me.
After licking his lips, Asher moves to the other side of the room before dropping his lusty eyes to my panties. “Take them off.” I’ve just hooked my thumbs into my waistband when he adds to his request: “Then stuff them in your mouth.”
“What?” I had to hear him wrong, surely. I haven’t showered since 4 AM, and my panties are soaked through.
There’s nothing wrong with my hearing. “I don’t repeat myself for anyone, Zariah. If you didn’t hear me, pretend you did, because your punishment for being ignorant or not following my order will have the same severity.”
His threat would hold more steam if his cock wasn’t hanging out of his pants. It’s twitching more now than when it was in my mouth, and it has me acting reckless. Like a crack of lightning brightening a pitch-black sky, his game plan dawns on me. He’s never wanted a spineless, scared woman at his side. He craved someone as strong as him. Someone who would fight alongside him, not three paces behind him. He wanted a warrior.
He still does.
“No.”
Asher angles his head to the side, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not making a suggestion, Zariah. I’m telling you what to do. Take off your panties and stuff them into your mouth.”
The shake of my head isn’t as confident as I would like, but it gets the point across. If it doesn’t, I’m sure my words will. “I am Zariah Volkov, soon-to-be wife of Asher Yury. I bow for no one.”
