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Gripping myself at the base, squeezing hard and fighting back a groan, I slipped past her lips, guiding her head forward until I hit the back of her throat. Sunday moaned, the vibrations shooting through my cock and settling in my aching balls.
Christ, I wasn’t going to last. I didn’t want to come yet. I needed to make her feel just as good, to paint her with my spend, consecrate our bond with the evidence of what she did to me.
“Fuck.” My harsh shout left me as her throat constricted, the involuntary movement pulling me deeper and driving me wild. I couldn’t remain still. I rolled my hips, fucking her throat as her eyes streamed with tears and she met me thrust for thrust. Taking everything I had to give.
“Take my fucking cock. That’s my good girl.”
She groaned again, and I knew if I didn’t stop, I’d be spilling down her throat in mere moments.
I pulled out, a line of her saliva connecting us from my crown to her swollen bottom lip. I ran my palm over the top of her head as we both fought for breath. I was pulsing. Seconds away from reaching my crest.
The image of her covered in my cum gave me an idea. Neither of us wanted this to be quick. And we both needed a second to come back from the edge.
“Stay. Do not move.”
She whimpered but nodded. The look of absolute trust in her eyes had me wanting to praise her.
“You’re doing so well. Daddy’s proud of you, baby girl.”
Her eyes fluttered, her reaction to my words primal and instinctive. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I hid my grin, loving that I could make her squirm without even touching her. Then I stepped away, moving behind her to the tower of flickering candles by the altar. Grasping one, I lifted it free and returned to her.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
She eyed the candle, her tongue swiping across her lips as she nodded.
“Say it.”
“Rosary.”
Just like the last time, her unknowing use of the word I’d selected for her in my fantasy had my cock pulsing. We were connected in more ways than I’d ever thought possible.
“Use it if you need it. This might hurt. If the pain ever surpasses the pleasure, I want you to let me know immediately.” Fisting my fingers in the hair at her nape, I tugged sharply. “And with each drop of wax that runs down your feverish skin, I want you to imagine it’s my cum. Marking you. Claiming you. I want you to know who you belong to.”
“Caleb.”
“That’s right.Me. You are mine, Miss Fallon. And right now, I can do anything I want to you. The most depraved acts of my imagining, and you’d beg for each and every one. You live to serve me, don’t you, darling girl?
“Yes.”
I grinned. If she had any idea it was the other way around, that she was the one who owned me, she gave no indication of it. That was probably for the best. She’d already ruined me. I don’t think I’d survive if she actually flexed her power.
Focus trained on her face, I let the first drops fall across her breasts, watching the splashes of wax as they turned from clear liquid to white trails. My cock jerked, cum leaking from the tip just at the sight.
Sunday moaned. Arching her back as if she was trying to give me better access to her body. “I need more.”
“Aye, me too. Now be quiet. I didn’t say you could speak. Unless you’re using your safe word, don’t talk out of turn.”
She clamped her lips shut and nodded.
I drizzled more of the liquid wax onto her, fighting the urge to touch myself when the thin rivers slipped down over the crest of her belly. My hand jerked, and wax landed on the peak of her swollen nipple.
Sunday cried out, a wanton, needy sound. “More.”
Not giving a damn that she disobeyed me, I did it again on her other breast, both of us panting as we did our best to stave off our rapidly building climaxes. I could arrive untouched if we continued with this game of ours.
“I’ll give you so much you won’t know your name in a minute, Miss Fallon,” I gritted out.
