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He lowers his head again and coaxes the little pearl onto the tip of his tongue, blowing on it gently. It’s sublime. I wriggle and buck off the table, but the scream and the orgasm die together before they materialize.
“What?”I gasp.“No!”
Antonio stands and unbuckles his belt. And as though it’s something I do every day, my fingers slide down my belly while he tugs at his zipper.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, swatting my hand away from my pussy. “You’re lucky I don’t put you to bed with your hands bound so you can’t rub that greedy little cunt.”
Bind my hands? He wouldn’t. Would he?
Antonio frees his cock from his pants, palming it while I watch. It’s steely and smooth—and big.His hand moves from root to tip, and I’m riveted by how comfortable he is with his body.
His cock gets longer and thicker as he pulls, and a fat, milky bead forms at the center of the dusky crown.
I want to taste the creamy little drop. I want to lap it up and let it dissolve on my tongue.But some part of me feels too shy, too inexperienced, to lean over and lick.
While I’m contemplating a move, Antonio steps closer and rubs his swollen cock over my clit. I whimper. Every nerve ending in my body sways faster and faster, building the momentum to push me off the edge.
The slide of flesh against flesh is both excruciating and exquisite. I need the release.I need it.But with the tiniest shift of his hips, or a slight change in pace, he dangles the orgasm just beyond my grasp. It’s pure evil.
Just when it feels within reach again, just as I’m about to take it, he pulls away, leaving me frantic.
I grope for him, but he slips his hands behind my knees and lifts my bottom off the table, opening my legs at just the right angle to create a cradle. He nestles his cock on my pussy and lets it lie there for several seconds, throbbing, while I pulse under him.
His eyes are black and hooded. His breath comes in heavy gasps and spurts. He’s close too.
“This is what you deserve,” he mutters, sliding me back and forth along his length, bringing my knees together until my pussy embraces his cock. It’s like I’m a doll he’s playing with. A toy.A fuck toy.
But I don’t care about any of it. My sole reason for living right now is the orgasm I’m chasing. The one he’s held out of reach for too long.
I’m close.“I’m so close,” I whimper.
Antonio wrenches himself away. He swipes a hand across his mouth and begins to pump his fat cock. I’ve never watched a man pleasure himself. It’s arousing and lewd, and I can’t stop staring.
His head falls back. His features tighten. His face is flushed and sweaty, contorted as though in pain. He’s tormented. And beautiful. Achingly beautiful as he pulls his proud cock roughly.
I feel the eruption as it happens—as it wrenches itself from his muscular body.
His tortured grunt echoes inside me. It’s all I hear as he sprays his seed on my stomach, my breasts, and my mound.
My thighs clench, but the orgasm is now well beyond my grasp. I’m confused. And frustrated.
I don’t understand.
“You. Are. Mine,” he growls, daring me to question his right. Daring anyone to question it.
While I’m still reeling, he steps back and adjusts his trousers, tucking in his shirt. His breathing is still erratic.
“You were lucky that all you bought yourself was a little edging. Next time, I’ll tie you to the bed and edge you until the need is wound so tight, it’s unbearable. I’ll be merciless,” he adds just above a whisper.
There’s an eerie calmness about him as the threats emerge, one after another, each more lethal than the last.
“A manipulation is no better than a lie. In many ways, it’s worse. If youevertry to manipulate me again, I’ll toss you to the guards and let them have at you. When they’ve had their fill, they’ll take you deep into the caves and drop you into a real prison. The accommodations are far less luxurious than here.”
I sit up and grab my shawl to cover myself. My eye catches the sparkle of my mother’s locket, and shame floods me.
I’m a disaster. Sullied by his cum. So furious I could scream.
I can’t stop the tears. They gush unrestrained. The sadness and anger and embarrassment. A whirling storm, tearing through me, leveling every wall I’ve erected to protect myself.
