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His biceps flex, and I follow the rippling muscles of his forearm down to where he squeezes the base of his cock. The veins on the back of his palm stand out in relief as he strangles his cock from base to swollen head. Little drops of liquid ooze from the slit. My mouth waters. My breathing grows patchy. My breasts grow heavier, and a thick, liquid pulse slides down to coil behind my clit.
I should look away, I should, but thatthanghe’s holding in his fist is massive and ugly and beautiful and within its every ridge, it holds a promise that he can bring me to orgasm with a thrust. Also, it’s big. Too big. Way too big to fit into my tiny little hole. I swallow and take a step back. And his eyes flash. His lips thin, and a mean look comes into his eyes. And that’s scary and also, arousing. More moisture slides down from between my pussy lips. His nostrils flare. He takes a step forward. I skitter back. And it must please him, for his lips curl. The man’s stingy with his smirks. Good thing, too. I don’t think I have enough panties to change out of the ones that would melt every time he did it.
He tilts his head. "You going to run, Little Dove?" he growls.
I shiver and take another step back.
"You going to try to escape me?"
I nod, the motion jerky.
"Fine, then." He moves to the side. One hand fists his cock, the other he waves in the direction of the door.
I look at it, then back at him. "This is all a game to you, isn’t it?"
He merely stares back. The mask is back on his face, and I can’t read his expression. So annoying. I take a step forward, then another. And when he doesn’t move, a third one. I reach the end of the bed, then step down. I sit on the edge, reach for my stilettos, and he snaps, "Leave them on."
"What?"
"I want you to dig those heels into my back when I fuck you."
Oh, my god, I almost combust. Almost lie back and spread my legs and ask him to impale me right there. But that would be giving in too easily. Besides, some hidden part of me knows he wants me to run. He wants the thrill of the chase. The illusion that he allowed me a chance to escape, though we both know it’s just that. An illusion. No way, is he going to let me out of here with my virginity intact.
I swallow around the ball of anticipation in my throat. Then rise up. My legs are shaky, but they support me. I glance at him. He jerks his chin toward the door. With the other, he continues to stroke his dick, which has definitely grown thicker and fatter in the last few seconds. I gulp. Resist the urge to sink to my knees and worship at the altar of his cock. Then I take off toward the door.
37
Knight
Her butt twitches, and her thighs quiver. I take in the glorious sight of my Little Dove trying to flee as every curve, every jiggle, every inch of her flesh calls out for my touch. Squeeze her hip, pinch her nipple, flick her clit. Then bite down on the curve of her neck as I take her from behind like the rutting animal I am. Soon. I snatch up a pillow from the bed and prowl forward.
She reaches the door, jiggles the lock, and begins to slide it back. Her hand slips, and she swears aloud. Grabs at it, misses. "Come on, come on." She pants, snatches at it, paws at it, as I come to a stop behind her. Her entire body shudders. Her movements grow sluggish. I bend down, then lean in toward her, close enough that my next breath raises the hair on her head. She moans. Then pushes her forehead into the wood of the door.
"You wanna walk out?"
She shakes her head. Thank fuck. If she’d said yes, I might have let her. Or not. Good thing I don’t have to find out.
"Turn around," I order.
She instantly complies. And keeps her gaze lowered, arms at her side, her pose so yielding, I could take her right now.Hold. Slow down. Savor this moment. And the ones after. After tonight, you’re never going to touch her again. You can’t afford to touch her. Not if you want to keep your sanity intact—your focus clearly on the goals you’ve set out to achieve.I drop the pillow in front of her. "On your knees, Little Dove."
She sinks down and folds her palms over the juicy flesh at her core. Then lowers her chin so her thick luscious hair falls forward.
"Do you want to suck my cock to help you calm down?"
She nods at once, and that softening in my chest spills over to my guts. For the first time since my return, the churning in my stomach recedes.
"Tip your head back; open your mouth wide."
She does. I guide my cock between her lips, and she blinks up at me.
"Lick me off."
She swirls her tongue around the head of my shaft, and a groan rumbles up my throat. My knees threaten to give out. I slap my hand into the door; the other I slide into her hair. I tug, she arches her neck, and I slide in until I hit the back of her throat. She gags; her gaze widens. Her blue eyes are limpid pools, still clear. I could dive into them and never come out. I want to bathe in them until every single stain on my soul dissolves. Tears slide down her cheeks, leaving tracks of mascara. Saliva pools at the edges of her mouth, and I haven’t ever seen a more glorious sight. I pull back until I’m poised again on the rim of her lips. "Breathe through your nose, baby."
She draws in a breath, another, and a third. When her eyes clear, I push forward and down her throat. She gasps, the sucking sensation a vice around my shaft that threatens to draw every last drop from my balls. But not yet. Not until she’s ready for me. Absolutely. Completely drenched and wet and open for my intrusion. I pull back, then propel forward. Her entire body jerks. She grips my thighs, while she holds my gaze as I violate her mouth. Again and again and again.
"Touch yourself."
