Chapter 14 – Chrissy #2
One, he was hard, and two, he was big. Not just big, but big enough to be intimidating. I froze as traitorous heat flooded my core and left my panties damp.
Fuck. This should not be making me wet, but here we are.
All the breath left my lungs on a shuddering sigh as he pressed his lips against my cheek in a stunningly gentle kiss, then murmured, “Scream pretty for me, baby.”
“Everyone will fucking hear me,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“I want them to hear you scream for me, sweetness. It will serve as a lesson to you and to them.”
He fisted a hand in my hair, then, and tugged my head up so my back was arched, and started spanking me with a vengeance. He alternated from one ass cheek to the other until I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
A wordless scream ripped out of me and he groaned, “Yes, baby, just like that. Take it like a good girl and give me those screams. Let everyone hear just how sorry you are for breaking my rules.”
“Yes, sir,” the words tore out of me on a broken scream.
My ass burned like hellfire, and I was all but sobbing when he finally stopped and rubbed soothing, painfully gentle circles over my ass cheeks. He kissed the right cheek, then the left, and then he kissed his way up the length of my spine, the gentleness dissonant after my punishment.
“You did so well for me, baby, taking your punishment like a good girl, but I think I need at least one more scream from you.”
He nuzzled my neck, then bit the place where my neck met my shoulder until another scream ripped out of me. Groaning, he shuddered against me, then sucked the spot where he’d just marked me until I moaned and squirmed beneath him.
“Sir, please—”
“Please what, darling?”
My pussy throbbed with need and I whined.
“I’m so fucking wet, sir. I need your cock… I need to come, please.”
He laughed, low and mean.
“Bad girls who break the rules and make out with a member of my staff behind my back don’t get my cock, baby.”
“But… but you said you’d reward me for taking my punishment like a good girl,” I whimpered.
“I never said the reward would be my cock, darling, but you did do very well, and I’m a man of my word. Roll onto your back and spread your legs for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I did as he said and he peeled my thong off with a low, guttural groan.
I sucked in a breath as the cool air hit the wet heat of my core.
He dropped to his knees in front of me with a quiet thud, his hands on my thighs, spreading them slowly and deliberately.
I let him, because there wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t want to be open for him.
“Look at you. You’re fucking dripping for me, little doll,” he growled.
I let out a strangled, incoherent whimper at the barrage of sensations coursing through me.
He slid his palms up the inside of my legs, skimming higher and higher until his thumbs rested at the crease of my hips.
I was shaking, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. My head spun under the blindfold.
I couldn’t see him, but I could damn sure feel him and the way he hovered there, mouth just shy of touching me, breathing me in like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.
And when he finally moved? When his tongue flicked out to taste the slick heat of me?
I choked on a cry of pleasure.
His hands gripped me tighter, holding me open, holding me still, as he began to feast like I was his last meal. No slow buildup. No teasing. Just deep, hungry strokes that had me clawing at the sheets and biting my lip to keep from sobbing his name.
He licked me like he knew me, like he’d dreamed of this countless times… like he owned me.
And I let him because, in that moment, he did own me. I didn’t stand a chance, not with the way he touched me… not with the way he ate me.
His mouth moved like he’d spent years memorizing the rhythm of my body. Like every flick of his tongue, every suck to my clit, every dirty, desperate groan against my pussy had been rehearsed in the dark.
And maybe it had.
Maybe I was just some fantasy made flesh, but god, I didn’t fucking care because right now, I was coming apart on a stranger’s mouth with nothing but a blindfold on and his hands gripping my thighs like he’d die if I pulled away from him.
I cried out, low and raw, hips bucking once — twice — before he pinned me down again and kept fucking going.
He didn’t stop, and he didn’t let up. He just held me open and sucked me through it, tongue working me harder, deeper, until the first orgasm bled into another and another.
My legs shook and my hands scrambled for something to hold, something real, but all I could find was the duvet and the sharp ache of my own clenched muscles.
I was writhing now, begging with my body even when my mouth couldn’t form the words, and when he finally pulled back — just a breath, just a beat — I thought I might sob from the loss.
But then his mouth was at my ear, hot and heavy, and his voice — god, his voice — raked across my skin like a sin.
Not a name, not a whispered endearment. He just growled out one word, low and savage as he massaged my clit with relentless fingers:
“Mine.”
I fucking shattered. Not just my body. All of me, all at once. I came with a cry I couldn’t hold back, raw and broken and utterly, completely his, and I didn’t even really know who he was.