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He forced her to look up at him. He didn’t loosen his fist one bit, but he stared down at her, questioning. He was checking on her. But more than that, he was showing her who he really was—brutal and the opposite of a feather, so much more than a spanking. He was the full spectrum. And did she want to continue?
She could callDante. But she didn’t want him to stop.
Her legs were rubbing against one another, squirming with impatience and desire. She wanted him to force her again.
Her mouth reached for him again, but he stopped her. “Whenever someone does this to you … remember, you have a choice.”
She shook her head. She had no words, but someone? There were no othersomeones. Her eyes filled with Griffin, and her mouth tasted of his cock. There would never be another.
For six years, she’d dreamed of doing that with him. Years of never believing she would. Years of longing for someone she had no words for.
A lone tear escaped down her cheek.
“What is that tear for?” he rasped.
“You said someone.”
“Yes, you’re just at the beginning of your journey.”
“No. I’ve arrived.” She couldn’t imagine being without him now. She would never get enough of this man. Not ever.
His eyes narrowed slightly as if he didn’t believe her.
She made a showing of licking her lips. A long swipe of her tongue along her bottom lip and then her top lip. “Please, Sir.” He said she’d beg for more.
His eyes glinted with pleasure—perhaps not because of her answer, but because he was, at that moment, fully himself. In control. Satisfied. With someone who wanted him. What a funny thought that he would need reassurance.
The mere thought she could be of service to him, make him feel wanted, was enough for her pussy to thrum with impossible need.
His cock breached her lips again, that time harder and with more force. She sucked air in through her nose and felt the long, forceful glide of him.
“Relax.”
She pictured her throat opening, taking him in, the pleasure he might feel from the warmth and slickness of her tongue. He moved out slowly, and another long inhale filled her lungs. The next time he pushed in, he went even farther, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat.
Choking, she willed her arms to stay behind her. Each time he went in a little farther, deeper.
Her tears streamed freely, and her nose ran. Noisy breaths in and out.
His hand never left his fist hold. But the fingers of his other hand were under her chin, tipping her head back so she could take even more of him, the tips of them caressing her cheek, and he was murmuring something. Encouragement.
“Yes, little Colette. You’ve got this. Now, all of me.” With one more thrust, he went even farther than before.
Her throat closed around his cock, and new tears escaped her eyes. He groaned loudly, spurring her courage. She sucked her cheeks in, feeling all of him.
That was when he started fucking her mouth in earnest. Each time, he pulled nearly all the way out so she could draw in air, then he’d push back in.
She swallowed, and she tried so hard to keep her eyes open to watch the veins in his throat grow more pronounced, his jaw tense, and him seething between his teeth.
He was thrusting then, and they worked up a rhythm. Breath. Thrust. Breath. Thrust.
Her neck ached, her knees were numb, and she was nothing but a receptacle for his cock. He was loving it, and she grew elated that she might be giving him such pleasure. She could come just from how he held her there … possessive and in control.
Only she wouldn’t dare. She wouldn’t break the sacred moment where she became a service vehicle; him the one with the need.
The reversal of roles was so sharp—at first, he, the master, and she, the slave. Now? She was the one who had what he needed. Him at the mercy of it. The power was intoxicating.
He held himself deep inside her finally, and she swallowed a few times as he emptied himself into her.
