Page 133 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

I tug at it uselessly. My lungs are screaming and then I’m screaming. Damien’s ten feet away. Five feet away. I throw my other shoe and he catches it in a single hand before throwing it aside. “You think that trick is going to work twice? Really?”

I tug at my dress, letting out a sob. If I could just—if I could just tear the fabric…

Leather brushes against my scalp before his fingers tangle in my hair, twisting and pulling, forcing my head back until he stares down into my eyes.

“You are in so much trouble, Little Bird,” he whispers as his other hand wanders, grasping the peak of my breast over my dress and giving it a deep, painful knead.

Heat floods my body and spills out of me between my legs. The hand on my breast slides up the front of my throat until two fingers hook behind my lower teeth. I taste earth and leather and my mind goes liquid and smooth. Molten.

“You gave me a black eye, didn’t you?”

Tears spill out of my eyes and into my ears. “I’m sorry,” I slur around his fingers.

“Oh, you will be,” he says darkly.

His gloved hand slips out of my mouth and grasps my chin, his grip unforgiving, his forearm pinning me against him. I can feel the insistent press of his hard cock nestled just beneath the curve of my ass. He releases my hair, but his grip is so hard on my chin that I can’t move my head.

He’s panting so wildly that I almost don’t hear the metallic sound of his belt being undone. But I feel the curve of his cock spring free of his underwear and drop against my haunch. Before I know it, he’s turning me to face him. He grasps my shoulders, one strong hand on each as he pushes me down to my knees. The damp earth presses through my tights as the head of his cock pushes against my pressed lips.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he commands.

But I don’t. He may have caught me, but he told me to make him work. And I will. If he wants a brat to tame, I will give him one. He already told me that I’m in trouble, how much worse could it get?

“Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth,” he says again, this time quieter.

I glare up at him and he lets out a sigh like he’s a long-suffering guardian of a willful ward.

“You want me to be mean? Then I’ll be mean, Little Bird,” he says.

His gloved hand covers my mouth and his thumb and forefinger press into the hinge of my clenched jaw. It hurts enough that I relent, letting my lips part. He doesn’t waste any time, he grapples me with another hand speared through the top of my hair and buries his cock inside of my mouth.

It’s huge and hot, taking every spare bit of space before pressing past my uvula and into the sensitive belly of my throat. I choke, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes I ball my fists onto Damien’s thick thighs.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “Let me feel that tongue on my cock, baby. Do a good job, and I’ll let you catch your breath.”

My throat fights the intrusion of his length. I exhale roughly through my nose and try to focus on moving my crowded tongue. It’s difficult, but I must manage a satisfactory job of it because he draws his cock out of my throat and lets me breathe.

“Now, that is a good girl,” he sighs and all of my defiance leaves my body. “That’s right, nice and loose for sir.” A pathetic little groan. “Fuck. Those piercings.”

I press my tongue tighter against the bottom of his cock. His hips jerk, and he thrusts into me, gagging me on his erection. His other hand joins the one in my hair as he pulls me off of him. His cock hangs heavy a few inches from my face as he lets me catch my breath for a few seconds. Then he pulls me onto his length again.

“You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to defile this pretty little mouth of yours,” he says. “Hearing you make such sweet little sounds with the same voice you bewitch me with every time you fucking sing. I feel like I’m on top of the world. Mnh, yeah, take me in your throat, just like that.”

The praise. It’s the best thing. It makes my whole body tingle while he invades my throat again. I close my eyes and open myself up to him, softening the muscles of my neck and relishing the way the hardness brushes against my windpipe. I do everything I can not to disrupt the cadence—not to gag or need a break. Tears bead at the corners of my eyes, then spill onto my cheeks.

I look into his eyes just as he retreats and his eyes go hazy and hooded as he catches a tear on his gloved thumb. “I fucking love it when I make you cry,” he says, the reverence in his voice paradoxical to the way he’s wrecking me.

I’m just a mouth for him to use and nothing makes me happier than to watch him grit his sharp teeth with the effort not to come.

He catches a rhythm, slow and deep, pulling out enough each time to let me take in a deep breath. It starts to feel like meditation. Like surrender.

“Touch yourself,” he commands. And I obey, slipping trembling fingers into my tights until I find my swollen clit. I gather my slick arousal on my fingertips and brush over myself at the very same pace he uses with my mouth.

I start to moan and whimper every time he gives me a second to breathe.

“Good girl,” she groans as he bottoms out inside of my throat and grinds his hips into my face. “Now, come for me. When you show me how well you come with those pretty fingers in your panties, I’ll let you swallow my spend.”

I’ve never wanted something more than that, so I get to work, grinding my own clit against my hand and groaning around him as he fucks my mouth. It only takes a few seconds, a few choice circles of my fingers before I’m whimpering and quivering at his feet. Just as I start to cry out with my release, he whimpers and pulls me against him so hard that my nose presses into the stubble at the base of his cock. My eyes roll as he spills his spend into my esophagus, my chest spreading with warmth like I’ve just had a sip of hot tea.