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Within moments his balls bounced and surged in my hand, and his body jerked and shuddered. A wordless cry wrenched from his throat, and then he was spilling his hot cum inside my mouth and down the back of my throat.
I'd never liked swallowing cum, but it had never tasted so sweet. It tasted like victory.
I gulped it all down, swallowing around his cock, sucking more and more as his hips jerked and he moaned, almost sobbing as I wrung him dry.
At last he was done. He released my hair, his hands falling to his sides. I was woefully unsatisfied, but for a change I didn't really mind. I had finally turned the tables on Anton Waters and taken control of my destiny in some small way.
I withdrew, giving the soft head of his cock one last lick, sending an aftershock through his body, and smiled. Delicately, I cleaned my face and smiled, watching the thick rod in front of me pulse with his heartbeat.
Reaching out I placed a hand on his thigh and rubbed it, admiring the hard muscle
s there.
Then I frowned.
Beneath my hand he was shaking. Literally shaking. Not just from pleasure, but from something else. Frowning I looked up at him.
The expression on his face sent a bolt of cold through my heart.
He stared at me, unseeing, lost. Scared. His brows were drawn over his beautiful green eyes, and his full mouth was parted, but not in pleasure. He looked like a man devastated, struggling to catch his breath.
Apprehension cut through my arousal. Unsure what to do, I reached for his hand.
“Anton?” I whispered. The first time I'd ever called him by his name.
With a physical jerk, he came crashing back to reality, his eyes focusing on my face.
“Don't,” he said. “Don't do that again.”
I backed away and stood while he ran a shaking hand over his face.
“I...” I had no idea what to say. “I didn't mean—”
He turned, opened the door, and walked out of the dressing room.
I stood inside, alone, suddenly feeling lost and adrift. I had only wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Instead, I had traumatized him. With a blow job.
What just happened?
My own fingers shook as I wiggled out of the wedding dress. I didn't bother to hang it up again, just left it on the floor as I stuffed myself back into my clothes and hurried out into the boutique, regret and anger warring for dominance in my chest, though why I was angry—or at whom—was a mystery.
Anton wasn't in the boutique, and I rushed outside. A wave of relief hit me when I saw the car was still sitting at the curb, and Zachary stood waiting to let me in. He opened the door and I clambered in back.
I found my groom-to-be sitting motionless and staring out the window at passing cars.
I opened my mouth and started to babble. “Anton, I'm sorry, I... I didn't know...”
He turned his head and regarded me coolly. There was none of the fear, none of the devastation that I had seen still on his face. He looked at me with a vague indifference that I found even more terrifying than anger.
“We are going back to your apartment,” he said softly. “You will gather the necessities. A change of clothes. Your toiletries. Whatever else you need.”
The blood drained from my face. “What?”
He turned and looked out the window again. “We are going to Las Vegas to be married.”
I stammered for a second. “But.. but I thought we would be married here. Aren't we going to have... you know... friends and family and stuff?” Did he even have any friends? It was like asking if God had friends. Sure, maybe Vishnu came around every once in a while, but it was probably just awkward shop chat...
Okay, now my brain was babbling. That's how bad things were.
