Chapter 17
Garrison abandonsmy ass the moment the words register. I watch his supposed dominance drift into the void when I spin and grab his wrist, tugging him onto the bed. His back hits the mattress as I shift to his side, one palm flat to his chest to keep him down while the other grips his thigh, dangerously high.
My eyes are glazed as I stare at the cock throbbing against his stomach. There isn’t an inch of my body that doesn’t ache for release, for the out-of-this-world explosion that’s sure to come the moment I sink deep onto him. But I continue to torture us both, knowing the payoff will be so damn worth it.
Slowly, I reach out with one finger and drag a line up the edge of the pulsing vein along his shaft. It’s red-hot and so silky smooth, the tip shiny with precum.
He shivers, puffing out a brutal breath. “What are you waiting for?”
“Have you ever been punished, Garrison?” I ask softly, slipping my thumb over the seeping tip of him, swiping away the precum collecting there.
His eyes burn, flames hot enough I nearly feel their burn on my skin as he narrows his eyes on my thumb, watching while I push it past my lips and suck.
He clenches the comforter in stiff fists, the vein in his throat pulsing. “Like this? Never. Now, let me fuck you.”
“Not yet.”
My hair falls to curtain my face as I lean over his lap and wrap my fingers around the thick width of his cock. His attention is an encouraging weight, heavy yet soft, demanding but somehow patient. An odd mix for him, but with how ready he is to fuck me right now, I’d risk saying he’d put up with just about anything to get what he wants. Including allow me to torture him with my slow exploration.
“You’re going to push me too far.” His tone is all gravel and grit, and I feel it tug at my clit with invisible fingers.
“What are you going to do about it? How badly do you want my mouth?”
How long are you willing to hand over control?
He groans a dark laugh, peeling that branding gaze from me and bringing it to the ceiling. “You’re going to regret this by the time I have you beneath me. Have you ever been punished, Poppy? Truly punished?”
“Why? Desperate to be my first?”
Arousal wets my thighs as I lean forward and bring my mouth to the tip of him, rubbing my closed lips over the cum he can’t seem to stop leaking. I flick my tongue over the bead of it and hum again, letting the vibration travel down, down, down.
“Do that again, Poppy. I’m done fucking playing. Suck my cock before I make you choke on it.”
My eyes twinkle excitedly at the promise. “I’ve always wanted to explore my gag refl?—”
The first breach of him between my lips steals the existing air in my lungs, leaving them utterly empty. I cough and gag, the intrusion so quick and hard I barely manage to tuck my teeth away before they can hurt him. He presses past my reflex and straight to the back of my throat, burying my face in his groin. My lingering knowledge of what I’ve read online about deep-throating seems to be too out of reach as my eyes burn and fill with tears.
“We’ll explore it, honey. Starting right now,” he rasps, the pet name turning me languid.
I curl my fingers into Garrison’s thigh, my nails digging deep enough to make him hiss as I sputter off his cock long enough to suck in a breath before diving back, the action my own this time. I’m delirious, proud, and horny when I finally dig into that well of knowledge and swallow around his length when it breaches my throat again.
Fingers thread through my hair, gathering it out of my face. The air is cool against my flaming cheeks. I hollow them and slide up until just the tip is in my mouth before sucking.
“That’s right. That’s fucking right, Poppy. Spit on it,” Garrison commands, tugging my head until my lips release his cock with a wet pop.
I blink up at him through my lashes and quiver at the dark heat in his stare. The filthy promises that shake awake a part of me that I knew was there all along but never had dared crawled out of hiding.
When I spit on his cock, it’s over for the both of us. Just like that. We watch as it drips with an agonizing slowness from the head to the bulging veins in the shaft and down over the heavy balls my fingers twitch to explore. I moan, completely unashamed at how much I enjoy this view.
I don’t take him in my mouth again, and he releases my hair, letting me move without comment. I’m dripping between my legs, so fucking ready for him that once I crawl over to the nightstand, slip a condom over him, and then notch the head at my opening, he slides in without struggle. The burn I felt last time doesn’t register as I stretch quickly around the intrusion. My head hollows out, all thoughts and worries turning to dust.
Canting my hips, I take him all the way, feeling him so fucking deep, hitting spots inside of me that have stars filling my vision. I can’t help but lean forward, using his chest as a prop to keep myself upward as he slaps his hands to my ass and forces me to move, to glide over his groin, my swollen clit exposed to the feel of his smooth groin beneath me. My breaths are shuddered, desperate, the air too thin to inflate my lungs properly.
“How’s that, Poppy? Do you like riding my cock? Taking it so fucking deep that it’ll leave imprints in your perfect cunt for months?” he asks through gritted teeth, that strong jaw pulsing.
I sigh, reaching behind me to hold his thighs, my back arching in the process. Soft, helpless cries escape me as I rock over him, twirling and lifting my hips, taking my pleasure. Demanding it. Every downward grind sends shocks through me, the pressure on my clit a beautiful relief.
“You’re arrogant,” I gasp. He grins, the appearance of it one of pure bliss. His hand drifts from my ass to my hip, the grip on me still unforgiving and possessive. A brand. “Stop talking and fuck me.”
“I can do both.”
He thrusts. Hard and deep. I scream at the depth in which he slides, the slap of his balls to my ass failing to be heard over my voice. Arching my back further than should be possible, I set my feet on the bed and lift myself up, opening my hips to make it easier for him to do it again.
“Again!” I demand, eyes rolling back.
He obliges my request. Over and over again until I can’t see straight. My palms are slick with sweat, slipping over the thick hair on his thighs.
“Jesus Christ. You feel so fucking good.”
“Mmm.” Words are fleeting. Impossible to latch onto.
Garrison slaps my ass, replacing the first handprints with another. “You like to be a good girl, don’t you, honey? Bad girls don’t take dick this well. No, you’re a good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word is emphasized with a brutal thrust.
I nod, no longer thinking logically. No longer thinking at all about anything other than the raging desire to come and how I can get there as fast as possible.
“I’ve had enough of you taking from me,” he growls before we’re moving, still locked together.
I’m beneath him in a blink, the hot, heavy weight of him pressing over my chest. I go to lock my legs around his waist, but he shakes his head angrily, like he’s pissed at me for riding him as well as I was. Pride flushes through me, my lips curving into a slight smirk.
He grips me beneath both my knees and pushes them forward, up as far as I’ll stretch. The movement opens me up to him in a raw, dirty way, and I cry out at the first thrust in the new position. I trip my head back and nip at the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming again.
“Keep your legs where they are,” he spits before he’s releasing me and his hands are drifting.
One finds home between my legs, his fingers parting me as he goes to work on my clit. My inner thighs quiver as I hold them in place, struggling not to straighten my knees and kick my legs. His other hand shoots forward and palms my breast. It fills his hand and then some, the rest of it pooling beside his fingers.
He licks his lips, pinching my nipple harder than I would usually do it. Sharp shocks of pleasure zip between my legs. “Tell me what you like. What you need and how I can give it to you.”
“You didn’t have a problem last time.”
“Tell me anyway.”
I want to tell him that he already is doing everything I need. I’m on the brink, hanging on the precipice of an orgasm that I fear is going to turn me inside out. Each thrust of his thick cock inside of me and circle rubbed over my clit brings me closer to the end. My lungs scream from the lack of proper breaths, but I can’t find it in myself to care.
I want one thing and one thing only. Nothing else matters.
“My ass,” I breathe, squirming now.
His expression doesn’t shift from that cold hunger as he asks without judgment, “You want me to fuck your ass?”
“Not fuck it. Just put a finger inside.”
My walls clench, fluttering around him. He swallows, pupils flaring even darker, the only show of his interest.
“A finger for now,” he grunts, and then my breast is cold.
While working my clit with one hand, he brings the other beneath where we’re connected, pausing his thrusts just long enough to get his positioning right. His finger brushes the skin between my pussy and ass, stroking the seam of where we connect once before skimming his knuckle over my second hole. I grow tense at that first touch, clenching right around his dick.
“Fucking hell. Relax, honey. I haven’t even gotten my finger in yet.” He strains to get the words out, and I like that. It’s like a drug, having power in the bedroom over a man like Garrison Beckett.
“I’m so close,” I whimper, bucking my hips.
He slides out, leaving me empty and aching before slipping two fingers inside. I moan as he pulls them back out and circles my asshole, getting it wet. One push and he’s buried to the hilt in my selfish pussy once again.
“Garrison,” I warn when he picks up his thrusts, but his fingers continue to circle my ass, never pushing in.
A brow twitches. His thrusts become punishing, each one rocking me forward further up the bed.
I’d beg. Fuck. I’d beg him to finger fuck my ass if it meant he’d do it. I don’t hide that from my expression, keeping it open for him to see. He can win this one. I’ll hand him the title belt as soon as I come.
His smile is wicked as he sees all of that and finally gives me what I want.
“Come for me, Poppy,” he commands, sinking his finger into my ass.
It’s enough to push me over the edge. Gloriously drunk on the blast of pleasure, I coil and then release, going stiff, then loose. My ears pop and crackle. I don’t mean to slash my hand over his chest, nails at the ready, but when he drifts back into focus, I find the scratch marks over his pec. It would be a damn claiming mark in any other situation, but not this one.
“Do it again,” he groans, shocking me.
He puffs hot, short breaths from between his thinned lips, pumping into me with abandon, his pleasure at the forefront of his mind now that I’ve had mine. It flicks a switch inside of me. I grab his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin and dragging them downward, over his chest, beside my previous marks, now lined with tiny droplets of blood.
With a finger still in my ass and a cock battering my swollen pussy, I snare his wild eyes and ask, “Do you need me to push a finger in your ass, Garrison? Is that what you need to finally fill me with your cum?”
“Fuck!” he shouts, throwing his head back.
His thrusts falter, and he abandons my ass to hold both my knees. He comes hard, as hard as I did. The condom keeps me from feeling the warmth of cum shooting deep, but I’m too focused on what set him off than missing out on that sensation. A million possibilities ripple through my mind, but I keep them to myself, stroking a hand over his chest as he comes down from his high.
“Can I stretch my legs out now?” I ask softly a minute later.
He nods once. Trailing his hands over my thighs, he massages the tight muscle before guiding them to the bed. My heart stumbles for a beat. I’m exhausted.
The room goes dark when I close my eyes and focus on the feel of him slipping out of my sore centre and shifting on the bed. “I need a minute before I can move.”
“I’ll clean you up.”
I open a curious eye, but he’s already padding off to the bathroom, his round, perky ass still bare. A hum builds and dies in my throat as I wait.
And wait.
And wait a bit longer.
The silence in the room stretches, exhaustion digging deeper. I don’t look at the time, uncaring how late it is. He can take as long as he wants. I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit as I wait.