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“Always with you,” I admit.
“Make me come, and do it fast. Then I might be chill enough to return the favor instead of tanning your ass for running.”
God, I want him to return the favor so badly. I lean in and run my tongue around the edge of his crown. He groans, and his salty taste bursts on my tongue.
“That’s it. Lick it, like a fucking lollipop.”
I do, but he grips my chin after a minute or so. “You’re not making enough of a show of it. I want my Duchess to lick me good, like I’m a melting ice cream on a hot day and you’re slurping it up. Let. Me. See.”
Christ, angry Tino is hot.
I poke my tongue out farther and make a show of licking all along the length of his cock, around the head, letting myself make noise, and then down over the piercings. I moan as I do it.
“Tastes so good,” I mumble.
“I bet it does. Lick it harder. Like the top.”
I do, and he rewards me with a pulse of pre-cum. “Stick your tongue in the slit.”
I stare at him.
“Go on,” he orders.
I pay attention to his slit and then dip my tongue in, shocked at the strength of the salty taste of him. I’m so wet, and I reach between my legs, but he grabs my wrist.
“No,” he pants. “Bad girls don’t get to give themselves relief. You’ll get it when and if I say so.”
I whimper but carry on licking all around the head of his cock. I pull back for a moment to look at it, and it’s swollen and red, and I feel as if I’m going to explode.
Returning to him, I swirl my tongue around and get all fancy as if tying a knot in a cherry. I wrap my hand around his length, and pump him up and down, working him increasingly faster. I love how incredibly hard he feels. Above me, Tino groans and starts to come.
I hold my tongue against his spurting crown as he pulses against it, the cum dripping over my tongue and down my chin.
When he’s done, he uses his thumb to wipe some of it up and push it into my mouth.
“Good, girl.” He is all soothing and calm now. “Clean me up properly, and then we’ll see what we’re going to do with you next.”
I do as he says, licking him entirely clean of cum as I wonder what he has in store for me.
“Am I forgiven?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
This is all wrong. He should be the one begging for my forgiveness, not the other way around. Why do I let him do this to me? Is it because I’m desperate to have someone protect me? I ran, but that was before I knew Paxton was still alive. Everything is different now. The terror I’d felt when I’d been in the bathtub, believing that Paxton was about to break down the door, was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
It was as though my nightmare had come to life.
How far am I willing to go to ensure I’m safe from Paxton? Will I go back to Verona Falls? What about Kirill? Will I go back to him, too? And Dom?
I swallow hard at the thought.
What if I have no choice? What if I have to let Dom and the others do whatever they want to me, and in return they’ll keep me safe from Paxton? It’s not as if—purely physically, at least—I won’t enjoy it. I might hate them, but I still want them. I detest myself a little for that weakness.
If I run and risk Paxton, at least I won’t keep giving myself to men who make me doubt my sanity.
Two options balance on scales for me.
Dom or Paxton? Which is the lesser of the two evils?
