Chapter Nine. Ember #10
A warm rush of pride eliminates the burn of humiliation, and I eagerly lower my head and take more of him.
My mouth is as much of a virgin at this as my pussy was last night.
Uncertain and drawing on what I’ve seen in porn, I go with instinct and, hollowing my cheeks, suck on him.
Sucking, licking, kissing. I have no idea what I’m doing for real, but none of that matters.
Soon, I’m lost in the feel of his hard, throbbing dick pumping in and out of my mouth.
I’m fascinate with the veins trailing his length like a road map.
Popping him out of my mouth, I follow those delineated lines with my tongue, learning them before inhaling him again.
With one hand pressed to his thigh, I fist the almost brutish bottom half that I can’t take, pumping it.
His groan has my nipples beading, stomach clenching and pussy wetting up my panties.
The sound is agony and lust, and a direct result of me pleasuring him.
I’m not ashamed of the same rush of pride swelling inside me.
This beautiful, powerful, lethal man, who incites respect and fear in so many people, shudders in pleasure because of me.
“Open your mouth, Ember. Wider,” Asad grinds out while slowly pulling his dick free.
Another hiss escapes him as his length glides over my tongue.
I obey that rough demand, stretching my mouth so wide the corners pinch.
His fingers sweep over my hair then grip the thick strands.
He gently removes my hand from the other half of his dick and replaces it with his own.
He taps the tip, wet with my saliva, on my bottom lip, teasing me.
Every muscle in my body stiffens in anticipation.
My breath comes out in heavy pants, but lust prevents any shame, any embarrassment.
“Stay just like that. Flatten your tongue,” he orders, and glides his dick back inside me, filling me. I instinctively close my lips around him, but he shakes his head. “Nah, baby girl. Keep that mouth open for me.”
My jaws tingle, but I acquiesce. And my reward is Asad gently but firmly fucking my face.
I whimper, my sex completely soaked and aching.
Gripping the backs of his thighs, I dig my fingernails into his pants-covered muscles, holding on to steady myself in the filthy winds of this storm I’ve thrown myself into.
He continues to take my mouth, and with each thrust, he claims more and more of me, his fist retreating farther and farther on his throbbing flesh.
When his tip grazes the back of my throat, I gag and he withdraws, the head resting on my cheek.
I try to swallow and wipe away the saliva pooling in my mouth and dripping down my chin.
“Don’t do that.” He cuffs my wrist and pushes it away.
“You don’t know how gorgeous you are, kneeling here with your mouth stuffed full of my dick.
Giving me sloppy head like a good girl. Nah, don’t wipe your mouth.
Give me all of that.” He guides his damp length toward me, pausing on my bottom lip.
“Spit on it.” I blink up at him in confusion, but his hooded eyes don’t waver. “Spit on it, ma.”
Hesitantly, I lean back a little and spit on his dick. Without breaking visual contact with me, he strokes his flesh, grunting with each pump of his fist. I’m captivated, burning hot watching him handle himself so roughly, twisting and jerking the hard, wide length.
With a rumble in his throat, he buries himself in my mouth again, not easing me into this fucking. It’s wild, dirty, and, yes, sloppy. Saliva seeps from the sides of my pursed lips, slides down my chin. And I don’t care. Not when he’s breaking me in with each thrust and grind.
When he touches the opening to my throat, and I, once again, gag, he soothes me. Softly caressing the length of my neck, he croons, “Relax your throat, Ember. Relax and breathe deep.”
I force myself to obey even though my eyes sting and jaws ache.
Anxiety spears through me, but I trust him.
In this, I trust him not to hurt or take advantage of me.
I follow his instructions, and he slips into my throat.
My muscles reflexively constrict, but I close my eyes and deliberately breathe through my nose.
His long, tortured moan is the perfect praise.
Asad cradles my head and, murmuring how good I’m doing, presses back inside and eases farther into my throat.
Tears prick my eyes, but the feel of him penetrating me in another way, and the lust stamped on his face, has me shaking with the arousal and heat coursing through me.
I’m swamped in it, ready to cave for it.
“Gotdamn, baby girl.” His fingers press harder into my face, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. “You trying to snatch this nut outta me. You and this fucking mouth gon’ be my downfall.”
I briefly pause at his words—words I don’t even know if he’s aware he uttered. But they touch something deeper than my pussy. What that is, I don’t want to analyze. Not here. Not now. Maybe never.
I go wild on his dick, attempting to shove his declaration out of my head.
Bobbing up and down his length, maybe trying to push him toward release.
Maybe trying to show him I’m his equal in more ways than one.
I’m definitely trying to comfort him, and I don’t even know what to do with that, so I focus only on the sex. Only on the sex.
He fucks me with an abandon that leaves me breathless and so damn hot. Each hard stroke brands his dick on my mouth, my tongue, my throat. And I don’t resist. No, I want more of it. More of him.
Withdrawing far enough to drag in air through my nose, I take him again. Deeper. His thighs clench hard under my nails, his breath is a harsh melody in the room. My name is a sacred yet dirty prayer on his lips. He lowers a hand and wraps it around my throat, gives it a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck, I’m cumming.” He growls the warning, his hips punching forward harder, more insistent. “Where you want this nut, baby girl?”
Reaching up, I remove his hand from my cheek and move it to the back of my head. Silently telling him to give it to me.
“Ember. Dammit.” He groans, thrusting faster and harder. Gripping his hips, I hold on, bracing myself.
He releases a low roar as the first splash of his seed hits my tongue; his eyes, hooded and gleaming, meet mine. They refuse to release me. Not as I swallow him down. Not as the last tremor ripples through him.
On a strangled groan, he yanks me to my feet. “Open your mouth. Let me see,” he hoarsely demands, lust savagely stamped on his features.
Even though I’m new to this, I understand what he requests of me. And I don’t hesitate to give it to him. Stretching my mouth wide, I extend my tongue and show him how I swallowed all of his nut like the good, obedient girl I am. The one I become with him. Only with him.
Does that scare me?
God, yes.
Is my mouth watering to have his dick possess it, pound it, desecrate it again?
Oh God, yes.
With a growl, Asad grabs my arms, yanks me to my feet, and slams his mouth to mine.
His tongue thrusts between my lips, and I shamelessly offer him mine, letting him taste his nut.
He doesn’t shy away from it. No, just the opposite.
Asad sucks on my tongue, lapping at it as if the combined flavor of me and him is a heady chaser.
Creed and cedarwood have my head gone. The hungry moan he direct deposits into me got me more lit than the strongest weed.
The echo of his dark, hoarse praise has me ready to drop to my knees and swallow him down all over again.
Because the impulse surges within me so hard, so bright, it threatens to eclipse every need, every thought, I step back. That’s such a coward’s way of describing it.
I tear away from him, imbibing large gulps of cleansing, mind-clearing air.
I must look unhinged to him, sucking in air as if my head just broke above water and my lungs are aching from lack of oxygen.
Turning my back, I press my fingertips to my ravaged, sensitive mouth with its ruined lipstick, then trail them lower to the tender throat that is no longer virgin territory.
We’d been physically intimate as two people could possibly be, with a dead body in the room no less.
But allowing him to see how much he affected me seems too vulnerable.
It would be granting him an advantage over me that would lead to me crawling on the floor to him like a dog.
The part that terrifies me more than that image?
That I might willingly put myself down there for him.
Viciously shaking my head of the horrifying thought and vision, I turn back around to face him, and his eyes are narrowed on me.
Words as corrosive as the acid burning the back of my throat sear my tongue, but before I can utter them, Asad does the unthinkable.
The most profane, terrible thing he’s done to me so far.
He closes the gap between us, grasps my upper arms in an implacable grip, and tugs me forward …
And presses the softest kiss to my forehead.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, lips moving against my skin.
If the gentle caress didn’t rock me to the core, those two words from this man do. Just minutes ago, I believed the pulse of his dick, the rumbled growl of my name as he came down my throat, had weakened me.
But no.
The combination of a nearly chaste touch and humble words of gratitude nearly wreck me.
And when he steps back and releases me, I almost stumble, unanchored, reeling from the punch, the impact that leaves me confused and needy. Hungry for just one more of those kisses that I had no idea my affection-deprived soul cried out for until this very moment.
Shit.
Shit.
This man is going to break me. He’s going to break me in ways even his mother never accomplished and leave me scattered, bleeding, and in pieces.
Fuck him. Fuck him.
And fuck me because I’m going to let him.