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“I may be responsible for your pain”—he drags his nose along my inner thigh, his words a light tickle of breath. He bites down on the soft flesh, and I moan. It hurts but in a way that sends sparks up my legs—“but I’m also responsible for your pleasure…” He trails off as he swipes the flat of his tongue through my pussy and ends the long stroke with a flick of my clit. His fingers dig into the fat of my thighs as my legs quake from his touch.
“Fuck…I’m so sensitive, Cash.” I gasp when he lowers back down and sucks the bundle of heightened nerves into his mouth.
“That’s the fucking point,a chuisle.” His eyes flash up at me, and I know I just sealed my fate. The wicked gleam in his eyes tells me that if gentle is what I want, it’s the exact opposite of what I’ll get. He pinches my thigh hard, proving my point.
He continues to meet my eyes as he slowly sinks two fingers into me. “If it gets too much, say red.” I nod, comforted with a safe word. “And Imightconsider stopping.”Never mind.
Then he’s fucking me with his fingers, curling them and drawing them out slowly before pushing back in. At the same time, he worships my pussy with a lavish tongue. He follows a pattern of lightly teasing the delicate flesh around my clit before bearing down directly on it with a heavy, wide stroke. Each time, I instinctually draw my legs together, but he just pushes them farther apart, the chairs rolling farther away each time.
I become lost in this cycle of torture and pleasure, deaf to my moans that give away exactly how much I am enjoying this. I’m wanton, not hiding anything, and by the way he’s lapping me up, I know he thinks he’s won.
And maybe he has. Because right now, all I can think about is the coil of building rapture making me sweat and tangle my fingers in what hair of his I can grab hold of. “Fuck, Cash,”I mewl and start chasing my high more desperately, grinding against his face while I hold his head tight to my pussy.
He groans. A delicious, satisfied sound, like by rocking my hips I’m giving him all he’s ever wanted. “Make a mess of me, baby. My good fucking girl.” I glow at his praise and continue my precise and hungry movements.
My throat tightens as my orgasm crests, my breaths becoming choppy as every muscle in my body contracts with unbearable tension. “Oh god, fu-fu—”My screams clog my throat as Cash lashes my clit with his tongue, and I burst into a shower of pure euphoria.
He gradually lets up in pace with my falling climax until I’m no longer a quivering mess. He stands and uses both hands to push the sweaty strands of hair from my face as he tenderly holds my face. “See how good I can make it for you?” Without another word, he kisses me as I nod, blissed out. He kisses me again, languid and unhurried.
I melt against him, resting my arms over his shoulders and feeling intoxicated from the taste of me on his lips. I don’t know how long we are like this, seconds or minutes. He moves from my mouth to kiss a trail up the underside of my jaw to the delicate patch of skin behind my ear and rasps, “Now get on your knees.”
“Wha-what?” I stumble over my words, still in my post-orgasm haze.
“Get on your knees before I make you.” I blink, confused by the sudden change in tone, but slide off the desk. My legs wobble as my feet land, making it easy to sink to my knees.
All the warmth I just felt is zapped from me as I stare up at the menacing darkness in Cash’s eyes. “Look what you do to me.” He forces my head up with a painful grip on my bun, holding me face to face with the bulging crotch of his pants. “Now be a good girl and take care of it.” His jaw ticks, and I realize that he’s expecting a protest.
Hewantsa protest.
So instead, I don’t hesitate to unbuckle and unzip his pants. I rub my palms up his legs, getting a kick out of the way his thighs flex under them. “Take it out, slut.”
I pull his pants and briefs down his hips and firm ass, letting my nails drag almost accidentally across his tense cheeks. He is rigid and wound so tight. I realize that the abrupt change in demeanor is because he knows how to give gently, but not how to take gently.
He only knows how to take with force and brutality.
I don’t fully understand what this revelation means, but when he tightens his grip on my hair as I pull out his cock, it doesn’t feel as cruel as it did just moments ago.
I hold my tongue out, and he groans as he drags the head of his cock over it. I swirl around the tip, a burst of saltiness hitting my tongue. On the next swirl, I look up at him, his eyes hooded and dark. “Do you want to fuck my mouth?”
“Shut the fuck up and suck.” His hips punch forward, and he forces his way into my mouth as he holds my head in a vice. Again, I’m taken aback, I don’t know why I’m still surprised, but I am. His thick head nudges the back of my throat, and I try to relax but can’t with his punishing thrusts. I gag, and he smirks.
“Choke on it, you filthy little slut.” He pushes my head down, and my eyes water. I hum around his length and he twitches in my mouth. “Fuck, do that again.”
I hollow out my cheeks and begin bobbing to my own rhythm, and he loosens his grip. “God, you take me so well. So fucking good, baby.” His head rolls back and I’m not sure he’s even aware he’s still talking. “You can try to fight it,a chuisle, but this is where you belong…on your knees or on your back, it doesn’t matter. We were made for each other. You’re my perfect queen.”
A chill spills down my arms as I process the assuredness with which he speaks.
“Mine,fucking mine,”he growls and he picks his thrusts back up while I continue to suck up and down. His pelvis jerks forward and he hisses, “Shit, shit—Take that fucking thing off.” He nods to my shirt as he pulls his cock out of my mouth.
He strips his cock with heavy strokes and the crease between his brows is both beautiful and frightening. “Take. It. Off,” he barks again, voice strangled with his impending release.
I rip my shirt off and he yanks it from my hands, his nostrils flaring. “I’m gonna paint your tits, baby. I’m gonna mark you up so you’ll never doubt again who you belong to.” My heart races, and not in an unpleasant way, as I push my chest forward. It only takes a few more seconds until he’s coming with a gritted curse.
His orgasm shoots out, and he coats my breasts with hot cum. Then he takes a finger and smears his cum, tracing three letters: F…O…X.
Still panting like a mad dog, he wipes his cock and finger off with my shirt before throwing it back at me like he’s tossing it in the bin. He doesn’t spare me another glance. “Clean yourself up. Stella will be here in twenty minutes to get you ready.”
“Get me ready for what?” I ask his retreating back.
