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I can’t ignore a tendril of apprehension at the thought of taking him down my throat. When he begins to press at the tight opening, I stiffen. I can’t possibly…
“Let me in, chica,” he says softly. “Trust that I won’t hurt you. Trust.”
It’s a promise that clashes with his prior commitment to punish me. He doesn’t strike me as the type to renege on his word. I suspect he’s fully emersed in another word game, one I’ve been slow to pick up on.
Taking my mouth from him, I say, “I don’t merely want to pleasure you, Jaguar. I want totameyou. Can you show me that?”
“Spicy girl,” he says. “Let’s see how well you can put that magic tongue to use.”
I take him into my mouth again and let him push my head lower. Lower.
He hisses out grated praise while I struggle to keep him in my view. Those beautiful eyes flicker behind fluttering eyelids.
I take more of him, fighting back my gag reflex, even as tears spring to my eyelids. First, a little. Then more, for a second. Two seconds. Even more.
“Fuck.”
Our eyes meet though I’m hunched at an awkward angle to make it work. He’s so hard I feel him pulsing against the walls of my mouth. It’s a struggle not to bite down.
And yet…
The pleasure creeping through my veins feels almost as intense as it did when I rode him amid my twisted fantasy. As though, despite all appearances, I’m the one in control.
Until he takes the reins and shoves himself deeper. So deep I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
“Damn, chica,” he murmurs. “I knew that tongue was magic, but this throat… I think you’ve found a rival…for that magic pussy.”
My brain reels with the praise. I fight the discomfort and take more of him. Until my lungs feel like they’ll explode. But this alone can’t possibly give him the pleasure that rivals what the other part of my body can offer. I swallow. Suck.
“Christ…” His head rears back, his nails grazing my scalp. “Vicious little viper-kitty.”
Drunk off the reaction, I keep going. I take this man in every way I can for as long as possible. His praise dies off, but I must be doing something right. He’s thicker than ever, bucking his hips to drive into me at a ruthless rhythm.
Suddenly, his palm flattens over the back of my skull. “How much of me can you truly take down that throat, Lupe?” He rocks into me. Grunts.
And then he shudders, and a dangerous warmth floods my mouth.
Panic shoots through me. I nearly recoil instinctively, eager to spit out the substance. But I don’t. I can taste the richness of him in potent form. It shouldn’t be so damn nuanced. His taste is different than I would have thought. Not repulsive or disgusting.
It’s every bit as addictive as the rest of him.
“Damn.” He fists his fingers through my hair to the point of pain. Then, gradually, he loosens his grip, stroking my hair in a way that could almost be described as…caressing.
When I finally withdraw, I do so carefully, wiping at my mouth as I swallow the remainder of him.
“Did I do good?” I ask him, my voice breathless and hoarse.
For once, it seems Jaguar may be speechless. He braces his hands on the mattress beside him and leans back, casting me a long, searching glance.
“Come here.”
My heart jumps at his tone.
“I take it that wasn’t my punishment,” I say, in a clumsy attempt to stall.
He laughs, but the sound borders on a growl. “Come here, Lupe.”
I rise from my knees and climb onto the bed. Then, as he nods toward his lap, I mount him. His hands settle over my waist while my bare breasts press against his chest.
