Chapter 14
Fourteen
Raven
I’m woken by a hand fisting in my hair.
“Come here, Hellcat,” Declan says, and his voice is so low it’s almost a growl.
He drags my head over… and down. I blink my eyes clear, draw a breath, my scalp tingling, and my face is pressed to his washboard stomach. Then pulled lower, until his hard cock bumps against my cheek. He lifts my head up, angles himself with his other hand, and pushes me onto him.
My mouth opens with a whimper that’s half protest, half sudden arousal, and the silky smooth hardness of him is shoved between my lips.
I’m fully awake now. Mouth watering, eyes blinking, breathing curtailed. Fear, uncoiling in my stomach. I don’t know what I’m doing.
I know exactly what he wants, just… not how to do it.
Declan groans, hips bucking, fist tightening in my hair.
His cock twitches inside my mouth, sliding over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat.
I jerk, wanting to cough, fighting not to gag.
It’s not my first time with a cock in my mouth, but I can count my past experience on one hand, fingers left over.
Disappointing, every time. For him, as well as me.
My barely suppressed anxiety floods in, and I put my hand on his hip, pushing away with an attempt at a no that comes out muffled.
“Kneel up,” he says. “It’ll be easier.” His hand doesn’t relax its grip in my hair, but he lets his cock slip from my mouth.
“Declan, I don’t—”
“Kneel.” It’s not a request, it’s a command.
I’m half twisted in the bed, and I struggle to get my knees beneath me, crouching beside him. He waits until I’m settled, then pushes me down again. The head of his cock hits my closed mouth, and I try to turn my head to the side.
“Open, little hellcat,” he coaxes.
“Please…”
“Stop teasing. Open, or I’ll pin you down. Fuck your mouth and your throat.”
Part of me wonders if that wouldn’t be better. At least then it’s on him, not on me.
But my throat?
My body tightens at the images that conveys.
“I haven’t done this…” Before. Ever. Successfully.
God, I feel so useless.
His grip in my hair eases, and he stops trying to force himself into me. “What?”
A flush of shame heats my cheeks. “I… uh…”
“You’ve sucked a cock, right?”
“Um… sort of.” I can’t meet his eyes.
“Jesus, Hellcat.” His tone is incredulous. “What were the men in your life doing with you?”
Nothing like this.
I have no answer.
“Open for me,” he says, voice terse and low. “I’m going to use your mouth. I’ll teach you how.”
My body reacts to his tone as well as his words. Half of me wants to fight, but the other half? I want to please him. The taste of him, the scent of him… I want more. I just know I’ll be disappointing.
But I open, taking in the head of him. It is easier in this position; I can better control how much of him is in my mouth.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Suck gently, use your tongue. Make it wet, go as deep as you can.”
His instructions help.
I lick at him, tasting the sweet-saltiness of his precum, the faint musk of him filling my senses. His girth stretches my jaw, but it’s strangely satisfying to suck while he’s in my mouth.
I’ve never had anyone so big in there. He’s already filling me, and I’ve barely taken any of him in.
With a hand braced on his thigh, I sink slowly down, carefully trying to gauge how far I can go. The quick answer is not far; he hits the back of my throat while I’m well short of his base. I pull up in reflex. How deep does he want me to go?
“You have two minutes to get comfortable,” he tells me. “Then I’m going to use you as you deserve it.”
It seems Declan in the morning is not playful. His voice is filled with lust, and I don’t expect any mercy.
But he lies still as I familiarize myself with the cock that fills my mouth, save that his hips twitch as I do certain things. He seems to like it when I rub my tongue beneath the head of him, and he draws in a breath when I see how hard I can suck.
It doesn’t seem long before he lets out a long sigh. “You’re much better than you think you are.”
I’ve been cautious, careful of how much of him I take into my mouth, learning how far down I can go before he hits my throat.
There’s no doubt I’m not ready for him to take control, but his words still encourage me.
I find I’m enjoying myself—no, more than that.
I love having him in my mouth, playing my tongue over him, tasting him.
But the best bit is when I make him moan, or twitch, or tense. It’s strangely empowering.
He still has a grip in my hair, but his other hand slides beneath my body, arm brushing my breasts, fingers reaching between my legs. He rubs through my folds, teasing my opening. “Such a wet little hellcat for me.”
I knew I was aroused. How could I not be, doing this? But his finger slips so easily inside me, the heel of his palm rubs against my clit, and I whimper around him.
“Tight,” he mutters, rubbing across my g-spot, and my whimper becomes a muffled gasp. He slides an inch farther in, pressing into my throat, and I have to quickly pull back.
“Going to fuck you with my hand while I take your mouth.” His grip tightens in my hair, and his hips buck. His cock jumps in my mouth, pushing in again, and his finger slides deeper into me, rubbing and stroking.
I’m trying to focus on what I’m doing, but his hand between my legs makes it so damn difficult. It’s hard enough controlling my breathing, trying to stop him from going too deep, and remembering to lick.
“Relax,” he murmurs. “Let it come. Breathe through your nose, open your throat.”
That’s all the warning I get.
He pushes hard into me, forcing his way deeper into my mouth, his hand on my head stopping me from pulling back. He pushes into my throat, and I gag around him, a choking sound. He doesn’t seem to care; his body tenses, he holds the position, and he lets out a low, shuddering moan.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Just like that.” His hips lower, giving me a moment of respite, then he thrusts up again. “Open yourself. Relax.”
Then he starts to fuck my mouth.
At first, it’s rough. Uncomfortable, painful in my throat, my body jerking as I try not to gag—or worse, throw up on him. There’s nothing in my stomach and I’m grateful for that, but tears fill my eyes and whatever I do, I can’t ready myself for the thrusts that come hard and fast.
But when I force myself to relax, it gets easier. The distraction of his hand between my legs helps, and I focus on that. My own arousal is high, his fingers playing across my g-spot while his hand rubs against my clit, and I moan around him. He seems to like that, cock twitching.
He slips deeper once or twice, my saliva coating him and easing his way, and I’m certain he’s in my throat. But he doesn’t stay there long enough for me to gag—or I’ve got more used to it.
“Such a fucking good girl,” he groans, his breathing heavier. “Don’t you dare spill a drop, now.”
A thrill runs through me. He’s close to coming, and I made him do that.
I whimper around him, my own arousal peaking, opening my throat even more to encourage him deeper.
My jaw hurts, but I don’t care. My throat is sore, but the pain is lost in the pleasure his touch brings me.
I grip his thigh, moaning as he drives a second finger inside me, and my own hips buck against his hand as he thrusts up.
My orgasm hits like I’m falling over an edge, shattering around his hand, my whole world the cock in my mouth and my body responding to him.
A moment later, his hand grips tight in my hair, holding my head steady as he draws back, until he’s only just between my lips.
Then he grunts, his cum spurting into my mouth, three powerful jets in quick succession, splashing over my tongue and swamping my senses.
He shudders in pleasure, cock twitching again as a few last smaller shots fill my mouth.
His cum, in my mouth. Thick, salty, strong, and proof that he liked what I was doing. It’s validation, in the clearest way possible. No matter that he wouldn’t accept my refusal, no matter that he pulled me to him, held me by my hair, and fucked my face without mercy.
For the first time, I feel pride in something sexual.
And I’m high with endorphins, my body still trembling around his fingers.
I haven’t even swallowed. My mouth is full of his cum, like I’m savoring it.
Drawing back, I let him slip from my lips, careful not to spill as he told me. Then I close my eyes and swallow, the thick liquid sliding down my throat, into my body. His cum inside me, again.
“Clean me,” he says on a breath, head slumping back against his pillow, and his hand pulls me down to his slick cock.
There’s more cum on the tip of him, and I lick it clean as he bids. That small drop is enough to refresh the strong taste in my mouth, and I try to work out if I like it or not. I decide it doesn’t really matter; the liking is in the pleasure I brought him, after all he’s brought me.
He spreads his legs and pushes my head down between them. “Lick my balls, too. Show me that you’re a good girl.”
I hesitate.
He just came in your mouth, and this is when you hesitate?
But it’s one thing hearing him call me a good girl, it’s another to willingly prove it.
The words pull at me, the need for him to find me pleasing so strong it’s almost scary.
In the heat of the moment, I might just go with it.
But now? Even post-orgasm, with his cum inside my body and his fingers still inside my pussy? I almost want to fight it. Almost.
His hand forces my head lower. “Lick, Raven.” My name. Not a pet name, not my birth name, but the name I choose for myself. And that makes it worse, somehow. Like he’s claiming me and won’t let me hide.
“Declan…”
He twists my hair, hard enough that I wince at the pull at my scalp. “Lick,” he says again, the word heavy with his lust and dominance, his possession. “Do what I tell you, or I’ll only assume you want to be punished.”