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Tentatively, she caressed him and began to lick his shaft in long, slow strokes, but when it came to the actual deed, she couldn’t go very far.
“Relax your throat,” he said, as he continued to stroke her hair. She tensed and tried to pull away, afraid he’d grab the back of her head and force himself down her throat.
“Saskia. Stop it. I’m not hurting you. I’m not going to skull fuck you. I would never do that.”
It was hard to know what Quill would do, given the course of events so far. One could hardly blame her for any fears she might maintain.
After a few minutes of failed attempts, he sighed. “We’ll work on it. Make me come, however you have to accomplish it.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“It’s all right. You’re a work in progress.”
She felt like a fumbling teenager, as if she’d never done this before. She had to use her hand and mouth together to get him off.
“You will swallow,” he said. There were limits to his compromises.
Saskia sucked the tip into her mouth as he came down her throat and swallowed as he’d demanded.
When she’d finished, Quill pushed an intercom button on his desk. “Lacy, please bring Miss Roth an ice pop.” He glanced down at Saskia. “Do you have a flavor preference?”
“No, Master.”
“Whatever’s in the freezer, Lacy.”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply.
Saskia slid to the floor as he zipped up and rose from the chair.
Her face flamed when the cook came into the study several minutes later with a grape ice pop. She handed Quill the frozen treat and left the room without a word of comment.
He unwrapped it and passed it to Saskia. “I’m sure you know what I want you to do with this.”
“Practice?” she asked. It was far smaller than Quill’s cock so she didn’t know what they could possibly accomplish this way beyond a pornified version of eating.
He nodded. “I want you to practice deep throating it. The cold will numb the back of your throat so you can learn to relax it without gagging or choking. You’re going to practice at some point every day. My freezer is your freezer for this exercise. When you can take me fully, I’ll knock $100,000 off your debt. Say thank you.”
“Thank you, Master.”
As if her debt were anything more than a game to him. She was sure he tossed it in her face because, in a perverse way, the idea of her owing him money made him hard.
“You can start any time.” He towered above her, his arms crossed over his chest, as she sat on the ground sliding the phallic sweet slowly in and out of her mouth, going a little deeper each time.
Quill sat back down and watched her until there wasn’t enough left to practice with.
“You can eat the rest,” he said, his attention shifting back to the desk. He shuffled some papers around. “Do you remember the day we discussed the plan to steal the painting, when you wore that short red skirt and I leaned you over the desk?”
As if she’d ever forget that moment and how conflicted she felt now over it, given how mild it was by comparison to what had happened since.
“Yes, Master.”
“Stand where you stood that day.”
Saskia pulled herself up off the floor and dropped the wooden stick in the trash on her way to the desk. She stood in the same spot she’d been. That day she’d felt fear and revulsion. But now? It was hard to put a label on it. It was embarrassing to think how much her inner monologue had changed where he was concerned.
Quill moved behind her and placed his hand in the center of her back, pressing her forward until her cheek rested against the desk. The movement and touch of his hand was so similar, she could close her eyes and mentally project herself back in time. He nudged her legs apart. His hand skimmed up her thigh. Today he went further and cupped her mound. She didn’t ask him to stop this time.
“You are so fucking wet.”
