I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, but his approval spurred me on to open and take as he fucked my face with increasingly brutal thrusts.
I tried to blink them back, but tears of strain filled my eyes before slowly leaking out. With Tripp’s focus locked on our connection, there was no way he would miss them, and I hoped like hell he wouldn’t stop.
My fear was for nothing.
His hooded eyes darkened as he tracked a streaming tear and lost his rhythm. He pushed in deeper, stopping just before the point of pain. More tears fell down my cheeks as I fought to keep my throat relaxed. He gathered one on his fingertip. Then then next. And the next.
And then he ran his damp finger along the exposed section of his shaft that I couldn’t fit in my mouth before fisting it.
Using my tears to stroke himself.
Suddenly, breathing no longer seemed important, and I shifted to urge him deeper. He followed my wordless demand. Or maybe he just did what he wanted. Either way, his rough hold moved from my hair to grip my face and force my mouth wider as he fucked my face with harsh thrusts.
“Take those pretty tits out,” he gritted out.
I did as he said with none of my usual worry about their small size or how they sat. There was no way I could feel anythingbut desirable with the intense lust that was evident in Tripp’s expression and the depraved way he used me.
I knew he was getting close when his plunges grew jerky and clipped. His tone held the same tight control when he asked, “Do you want my cum down your throat, baby? Or painted all over your perfect tits?”
I’d never swallowed before, but I would happily try.
Just not right then.
Right then, he was offering me what I craved. An in-person view of him touching himself.
I couldn’t voice my choice with my mouth full, but my eyes must’ve done it for me.
That edged smirk curved his mouth. “You want to see me stroke my cock for you? See what it’s looked like every time I’ve jacked off thinking about you?” He pushed in farther, a guttural groan vibrating through him as my throat convulsively swallowed around his length. “Because I’ve lost track of how many times the fantasy of you has gotten me off. And, baby, none of my wildest dreams ever came close to this.”
His words rocked me, but I didn’t have time to dwell on them. My focus was on his hard-on as he pulled it free. An embarrassing amount of saliva trailed from my mouth to it, but Tripp didn’t seem to share my disgust. Like my tears, he gathered the slick dribble and used it to fist himself.
But that wasn’t enough.
He reached between my legs to gather the moisture that pooled at my core and coated himself in that, too. And then he stroked himself with savage, brutal movements until it was littlemore than a blur. His neck muscles corded, and his shoulders bunched like he was fighting the urge to drop his head back. Instead, his gaze roved over me. My own eyes. My mouth. My tits. My pussy. He gripped the bunched fabric of my dress in his other hand, pulling it taut as he pinned me in place.
As if I wanted to be anywhere but right there.
His first shot of cum startled me as it splashed against my skin. His white-knuckled grip kept the grueling pace as more warm liquid landed on me.
Painted me, just as he promised.
Marking me as his, even if just for the moment.
It wasn’t enough for him.
Because as he caught his breath, his gaze stayed on the mess he’d created before he ran his finger through it.
No.
Finger painted with it. Dipping his finger in a few times to gather more, he traced something across my chest.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, my voice somewhere between a moan and a carefree laugh.
“Signing my name.” He finished, and a lazy smile curved his mouth. “My favorite autograph I’ve ever signed.”
“You’re insane,” I said, that time with carefree laughter.
“What? I thought you of all people would enjoy the organization.”
