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“Because what?”
He presses his palms on the wall, thereby pressing his body into mine, pressing his ribs into my tits. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
My breaths drag my nipple along his muscles. “You aren’t?”
“No. That was for your brother, what I did. For the rivalry, for revenge. For winning. But now it’s my turn. Now what I’m going to do is for me. For my eyes. No one else’s. Even though like a motherfucker, I’d capture it on camera too.”
“Capture what?”
“You.”
“Me.”
“Painted.”
“P-painted?”
“With my cum.”
I jerk then, a current running through my entire body.
From top to bottom.
Tingling my hair, tickling my throat. Scratching my tits and nipples, making my tummy clench. All the way down to my pussy and thighs and toes, all pulsing and throbbing.
“It’s not the norm, you see,” he says, his eyes looking into mine, “making a girl suck your dick the very first time you’re together. Something my brothers used to say. Be patient, they’d tell me. Be mindful of what she wants. Go gentle. And as much as I hated being told what to do, I understood why. Girls are delicate, aren’t they? They’re fragile and vulnerable.”
He sweeps his eyes all over my features, taking in my parted lips, my flushed cheeks.
Then, “And you’re the most fragile of all. The most delicate. All silky soft, spun from sugar. Made of candies and cream. My Firefly. But I still would’ve stuck my dick down your throat and fucked it like it was my last moments on this earth. And I still would’ve come on your face, blown all over it like you were a whore.”
I jerk again.
This time more violently than before.
And he notices.
His brows furrow and his body presses even closer to me. “But I don’t want you to be afraid, Firefly. It’s not because I think you’re a whore, no. It’s not because I don’t value you, you understand. It’s because I value you too much. It’s because I treasure you too much. It’s because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a girl to suck my dick the way I want you to. Like if you didn’t wrap your lips around my cock, I’d die. Like if I didn’t push my cock into your mouth and keep pushing it and pushing it until I reach the back of your throat, stretching not only your lips in the process but also your delicate throat, I’d die right here, right now. That’s why. Tell me you understand that.”
I nod.
Because I can’t not nod my head.
Because it looks like he depends on my answer. His sanity depends on it. His very life depends on me understanding that even though he wants me to suck his dick like a whore, he still cherishes me.
And God, I already knew that.
I already knew that that’s why he has to make me suck his cock like a whore.
Because he cherishes me too much.
Because when my Beautiful Thorn cherishes someone the way he does his Lovelorn Firefly, there’s nothing left to do but treat her like the whore that I am for him anyway.
It’s the purest form of cherishing.
The highest form of treasuring.
So I not only nod but also whisper, “I do. I do understand that.”
“Good.” He lets out a breath, swallowing thickly. “That’s good. Because I wouldn’t be able to take it. I wouldn’t be able to take if you thought I was doing this because of anything other than that. If you thought me treating you like a whore is anything other than because I want to. And Jesus, I do. I fucking do. So fucking much. I want to hang your head over the edge of the bed. Just so it’s easier to slide my dick all the way down your throat. Not only that, I also want to watch. I also want to see it happen. See how your slim throat swells up with my fat dick in it. I want to see how your heartbeat jacks up, how your freckle dances over your pulse as I choke you with my dick.”
I’m struggling to breathe now.
And his dick is nowhere near my mouth.
Which I think is a travesty.
I think it’s a gross miscarriage of justice and fairness.
Not only because he wants my mouth so much but also because I want to give it to him, my mouth, my throat.
My breaths.
“And that’s because I’ve always wanted to choke you,” he informs me. “I’ve always wanted to make you gag. I’m a guy, aren’t I? I like messy blow jobs. I like it when a girl drools around my dick. I like it when it drips down her chin and pools in the triangle of her throat, in her cleavage. And you’ve got a fantastic cleavage, haven’t you? So yeah, I’ve thought about it, your slim throat swelling up with dick and your saliva pooling in between your fat tits. But the main reason why I want you to struggle to breathe is because I’ve always thought it would be peaceful. Your choking sounds. Your whimpers and moans. I’ve always thought if I could control your breaths, control the air that goes into your body, control the beats of your cotton candy heart, it would give me peace. It would calm me down.”
