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She bucks in my grasp, her cries growing louder, incoherent pleas mixing with ragged moans as I suck vigorously on her clit, causing more delicious wetness to spurt onto my tongue. She’s close, I can feel it, so I slow down, keeping her on the edge until she’s shaking and panting, my name a gasping prayer on her lips.
“Alexei, please, Alexei… oh, God!”
Dark satisfaction courses through me, even as my own body shudders with unfulfilled need. In this moment, I am her god. I am her everything, and she can’t deny it. Can’t push me away and claim to hate me when her legs are wrapped so tightly around my neck I can hardly breathe. Can’t fight me when she’s writhing against me, desperate for the relief only I can provide.
I’m tempted to torture her longer, to make her pay for all the torment she’s put me through, but my own hunger is too powerful to resist. With a few hard, rhythmic sucks, I send her over the edge, and as she gasps and shudders all over, I lick her through the aftershocks and lower her back onto the bed.
She opens her eyes, her pupils still unfocused as I yank her dress off over her head and toss it aside. She’s not wearing a bra, I realize in a distant corner of my mind as I take in her pale round breasts and hard pink nipples—a mouthwatering sight that makes me impossibly harder. The desire pounding through me is raw and savage, violent in its intensity, and it takes everything I have to grip her shoulders gently and maneuver her onto her hands and knees, facing me. She blinks up at me, confused, and I wind my hand in her hair, tilting her head back. She gets it then. Her eyes go wide as I guide my swollen cock toward her parted lips and, before she can resist, push the tip inside.
At the feel of her hot, wet mouth, the remnants of my self-control disintegrate, and I thrust my hips forward, shoving half of my length into her mouth. She chokes and sputters, so I pull back to let her breathe, and then I thrust again, deeper, until I feel the back of her throat. She struggles, her eyes watering as she pushes at my hipbone with one hand, but I can no longer restrain myself, can no longer hold back as I begin to fuck her face in earnest. For a decade, those glossy red lips have taunted me, promising all sorts of sinful pleasures—and they more than fulfill that promise. My beauty is not skilled at giving head, far from it, but this is the hottest blowjob I’ve ever received, her very innocence an aphrodisiac.
I’m the only man who knows what she looks like as she gags and chokes on my cock, and every atavistic part of me revels in that fact.
Holding her hair in a tight grip, I fuck her mouth the way I’m dying to fuck her pussy—hard and fast, without holding back. I know I should be gentler, should initiate her slowly, but something dark and primal has broken free in me and refuses to go back into its cage. Ruthlessly, I use her mouth, all the while telling her what a good girl she is, how much I love fucking her throat, how good her soft, plump lips feel wrapped around my cock… how gorgeous she looks with her makeup smeared by tears and saliva.
She chokes again, her throat convulsing around my cock as I thrust in all the way, and her eyes turn wild and panicked as she claws at my side, desperate for air.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” I whisper hoarsely, hardly knowing what I’m saying as the approaching orgasm, hot and electric, draws my balls tight and covers my spine with gooseflesh. “That’s it, my sweet girl… Oh, fuck!”
I come so violently my vision flashes red and black, scorching ecstasy crashing through each cell in my body as jets of cum erupt from my cock and pour deep into her throat. The agonizing pleasure goes on and on, and when I’m finally spent, I reluctantly withdraw from her throat and let her collapse onto the bed, gasping for air.
She’s still shaking and breathing in erratic gasps as I lie down beside her and gather her into my arms, pressing her face against my chest. I was too rough, I know, and a part of me is horrified by what I’ve done. But another, bigger part revels in the way she clings to me now, needing comfort… needing me even though I’m the cause of her distress.
Maybe she was right yesterday, when I told her I didn’t want to hurt her and she called me a liar. I don’t want to hurt her—I never have—but I can’t deny that there’s a part of me that’s willing to destroy her resistance by any means necessary.
