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When I’ve complied, he gives another instruction. “Put your hands on your thighs and keep them there.”
I hold his gaze as I follow out the order, but his eyes remain cold and unforgiving. Fisting one hand in my hair, he grips my face in the other. The pressure he applies on the joints of my jaw has my lips part of their own accord. The minute my mouth is open, he slides his cock inside.
I’ve seen him, but I haven’t tasted him. I never returned the favor. I’m not inclined to do so now, but he doesn’t need my cooperation. He pumps through my lips with a steady rhythm of shallow strokes. The ice in his eyes melts into something different, something carnal and feverish but not less cold. There’s no emotion, only the lust he refused to show earlier.
I try to swallow around him, but it’s impossible. He doesn’t have to push deep to stretch my lips as wide as they can go. He’s big enough to make me battle to take more than the head. Saliva dribbles down my chin. The sounds I make are wet and sleazy. They belong in a porn movie or in a peep show. I consider biting, but I have to remember why I signed up for this. I have to think about my family.
Holding me in place, he pushes deeper. It’s difficult to breathe. I flatten my tongue to accommodate him and to prevent myself from choking. He grunts his approval when I accidentally lick the crest. His taste comes as a surprise. I don’t want to like it, but how can I not when he tastes like the ocean and salt and wind?
Tangling his fingers tighter in my hair, he tugs my head back. My eyes water from the sting on my scalp. Without warning, he shoves himself so deep down my throat he’s buried balls-deep in my mouth. I gag around him, suffocating. The lack of air makes me panic. It’s impossible to keep my hands on my thighs. My body goes into survival mode. Fighting for air, I dig my nails into the back of his pants, gripping handfuls of fabric.
Unlike me, he’s calm and collected, staring at me with fascination. “Easy. Just take it. Take me. You can do it.”
He pulls out and lets me breathe.
I gulp air in noisily, my chest heaving with the effort.
Not easing his grip on my face, he smooths a hand over my hair and wipes away the sting. “Your red lips stretching around my cock is so damn hot. When you swallow me down like that, it’s hard to hold back.”
Before I can find my voice, he slides his cock into my mouth again and shifts his hip, aiming for the back of my throat. I gag and renew my fight, hitting him with my fists anywhere I can reach, but he thrusts with a steady pace, his gaze fixed on my mouth.
Just as white spots pop in my vision, he comes. He empties himself with another grunt, letting go of my face to wrap his fingers around my neck instead. Satisfaction bleeds into his eyes when I swallow.
There’s no mirror in the room, but I don’t need one to know I’m a mess of mascara, saliva, and smeared lipstick.
When he finally sets me free and tucks his cock back into his pants, I collapse on my heels at his feet. This isn’t how I imagined oral sex. I’m not keen on repeating it.
“On your knees,” he says. “Turn around and face the bed.”
I scowl. My throat feels raw inside. It takes effort to speak. “I was right. You really are a sick pervert.”
The set of his jaw hardens. He doesn’t like it when I call him out on his shit, especially not when it’s true.
“I said on your knees, Sabella.”
When I don’t move fast enough for him, he grabs my bicep and pulls me to my knees before twisting me around and pushing my upper body down on the bed. He leans over me, takes my wrists, and arranges them above my head.
His voice is a wicked whisper in my ear. “You didn’t do very well earlier when my cock was stuffed down your throat. Let’s see if you can do a better job this time.”
This time? If I hoped my punishment was over, I was wrong. As I look at him from over my shoulder, I realize when he pulls his belt from the loops of his waistband, it hasn’t even started.
Cold sweat breaks out over my body, but I refuse to beg again.
“You betrayed me, Sabella,” he says, folding the leather double with the buckle in his palm. “You deceived me. Ran from me. I can forgive you almost anything, but plotting to marry another man?”
Whack.
The leather comes down hard on my buttocks, leaving a sting that turns into a path of fire. Fuck. That hurts. I gnash my teeth and swallow my sounds. I try to prepare myself for the next blow, but my back arches when it falls. The worst isn’t the sting. It’s the lingering burn.
Whack.
“That was for not keeping your hands where I told you to keep them.”
Whack.
The next two blows heat my thighs.
I curl my fingers into the covers, willing myself not to move, but it’s almost impossible when the bite of the leather falls right over my pussy. My whole body jerks. It’s only a miracle that I’m able to hold back my scream.
