Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SANORA
I stood in front of Thrax in the enclosed space, my chest heaving slightly from excitement. He was dressed in his usual black—shirt buttoned, coat hanging from those wide shoulders, his dark hair brushing against them as if even strands of it were made to tease me.
He was tall. Broader than I could wrap my arms around. And for a second, my legs almost buckled while my fingers burned with the ache to strip him bare, to peel the fabric away and finally roam every inch of the skin I’d been craving to touch.
Thrax stared down at me without a word, gaze heavy and commanding. He was waiting for me to begin.
My throat bobbed as I swallowed, stepping closer until the heat rolling off his body kissed my skin.
I slid his coat from his shoulders, guiding the fabric down the muscled length of his arms and letting it drop to the tiled floor.
My fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one.
By the time I reached the last, my cheeks were burning, his eyes alone setting me aflame.
It had been two days since he told me he’d been celibate. Celibate for six hundred fucking years.
How the fuck does one even do that?
Unbelievable. I couldn’t stop my curiosity from clawing at me, desperate to know who the last person had been—the woman who had touched him last, the one who had pushed him into a lifetime of abstinence.
When the final button slipped free, I tugged his shirt from his shoulders, my fingertips brushing hot skin as I helped it down his arms. I dropped it onto the pile with his coat before my hand came back, desperate and ready to explore his bare chest. But as I was about to press my palms where I ached to, his hand shot out, catching my wrists mid-air.
I frowned, my gaze snapping up to his. He only dragged my hands lower, wordlessly demanding I keep stripping him.
I bit my lips, but continued.
I slid the zipper of his trousers down, my knuckles grazing against the swollen bulge beneath. My whole body sparked at the contact, and I looked up at him, choked by how thick his arousal felt pressing against the confines. His brow rose, as if asking if there was any problem.
I refocused my gaze lower as I tugged his waistband down, my breath stuttering as the fabric slipped past his hips. The trousers pooled at his ankles, and he stepped out of them with a slow shift.
The knot inside me cinched painfully tight when I saw the outline straining against his boxers. His cock was raging to be freed, and my hands shook at the thought of wrapping them around him, of finally claiming the thing I’d fantasised about far too many times.
With one smooth tug, I peeled the last barrier away. He stepped out of it, kicking the boxers aside into the heap of his clothes with a flick of his leg.
And I...stared.
Stupefied.
Thrax’s cock was brutally intimidating. He was rock solid, every vein prominent, as though he’d been ready the second I touched him. My pussy clenched on nothing, pulsing with the thought of taking him inside me, of what it would mean for my sanity if I did.
“You want to touch, Nher?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hand threaded into my hair, fisting at the back of my skull. “Then get on your knees for me.”
I didn’t hesitate, never would. I’d always wanted to do this.
I sank slowly to the bathroom floor, knees pressing against cold tile, heart ricocheting against my ribs.
Up close, his cock was eye level, even more enormous, the sheer size of it making me swallow hard.
But the pulse between my thighs swelled hotter, demanding I stay put.
I wrapped my hand around his length, finally feeling him—hard, thick, and hotter than I ever imagined—and the reality sent lightning through my veins.
“Fuck,” Thrax muttered, his fist tightening in my hair.
His head tipped back, the muscles in his throat straining.
When he looked back down at me, my chest fluttered, half wondering if he felt electrified because someone other than him was touching his dick in six hundred years, or because I was the one touching him.
My heart told me to settle for the former, but the unhinged look he was pinning me with told me otherwise.
“Maybe you’re going to end my life after all. ”
I liked the sound of that.
I stroked him once, slow and steady, and his grip on my hair tightened, as if he needed to anchor himself before I pulled the ground from beneath his feet, reminding me once again that I was the first person doing this to him in centuries.
Precum beaded at his tip, slick and glistening, and without thinking I darted my tongue out, licking it away.
The taste of him rolled over my tongue as I looked up through my lashes, meeting his dark, hooded gaze. His cock pulsed in my grip as I took him into my mouth slowly, my lips sliding down the hard length while my hand worked the part my mouth couldn’t reach.
He groaned, head tipping back again, my name spilling out from between his clenched teeth.
Goosebumps raced down my arms, belly somersaulting as my need for him intensified.
Determined to give him more, I dragged my tongue along him from base to tip, then swallowed him deeper into my mouth. His cock nudged the back of my throat, and for a moment, I choked on air.
“Deeper, Sanora,” he rasped, one hand twitching against my head as though he wanted to force me, but stopped himself at the last second.
His jaw was clenched, voice unrecognisable as he stared down at me.
“I want to hear you gag on my cock. I know you can take more. You were made for me anyway, specifically designed for my sake.”
I was?
Even though those words were fuelled by our act, they tangled with my pulse, lodging in me as if they were truth.
I relaxed my jaw and took him further, gagging as his cock slid down my throat. Tears pricked my eyes as his groan shook the air, his entire body stiffening above me like he was close to coming in my mouth.
A few seconds later, I pulled back, sucking him free with a wet pop. My eyes blurred with tears as I stroked him fast, my spit mixing with the precum slicking his shaft.
I’d seen how he’d fucked his fist, the way he’d done it like it was his mission to wring the life out of himself, and I wasn’t sure I could meet up to that.
But when I looked up at him, I realised I didn’t even need to. He was trying hard not to unravel in my mouth. I wanted him to shatter. To lose every ounce of control, but this time knowing I was the one who did it.
“Guide me with my head,” I whispered, still stroking him with my hand.
Thrax’s hand fisted harder in my hair, but he hesitated. “You’re asking me the impossible. Don’t make me start something I can’t stop.”
I stared up at him, pleading.
“Don’t fuck me with those eyes,” he growled, tilting his head back, like looking at me was messing with his thinking. “I’m nothing but a man at your mercy right now. Use me however you want.”
“Thrax...”
“Don’t say my name like that,” he bit out. His head dropped back down, eyes wild and black, giving in. “Fine. You want it?”
I nodded, breathless. “You’ll guide me?”
He smirked, but it was empty of humour. “Don’t think you can’t get whatever you want when you’re on your knees looking up at me like that with tears in your eyes, Sanora. I’d bring the whole world to its knees if you asked me right now.”
My ego bloomed, but before I could respond, both his hands fisted my hair—one anchoring behind, one pressing down on my head.
“I’m not in control right now,” he warned. “Tap out if it’s too much, clear?”
And then he was moving me, guiding his cock into my mouth, into my throat, deeper than I thought I could take. I gagged around him, my pussy clenching violently as my nails dug into his thighs.
My lungs burned. My chest heaved. But then he yanked me back only to slam back in again, and I nearly saw stars.
“That sound—” his voice cracked, hoarse and broken, “—is going to haunt me forever.” His hips bucked harder, guiding my head faster. “Look at me, Nher. Keep those beautiful green eyes on me. Be my undoing.”
Despite the tears streaking my cheeks, I flicked my gaze up, forcing myself to meet his blurred silhouette.
“Fuck my goddamned life,” he snarled, punctuating every thrust. His cock slammed into the back of my throat again and again, his hand tugging my hair in rhythm with his movements.
Then he stilled and let go, his breathing heavy. “Make me come yourself,” he demanded.
Letting fresh air into my lungs, I seized him with my hand, stroking hard and fast, spitting down to slick the motion. My tongue teased the underside of his crown before I took him into my mouth again, desperate to tear him apart completely.
He groaned my name, guttural, as his cock pulsed hot against my tongue. I pulled off at the last second, wrapping my fist around him and stroking furiously, watching him unravel.
“Fuck, Sanora,” he growled, voice shattering as his orgasm ripped through him.
His release shot hot and thick, hitting my tongue, and without thinking I swallowed.
His body shook above me, muscles visibly tightening as I kept stroking, dragging every last drop from him.
My pussy throbbed in protest, aching, begging for friction, but I didn’t stop until his cock finally stopped twitching in my grip.
And when I let him go, when I thought he’d soften.
..he was still semi-hard and heavy. No surprises there.
Six hundred years worth orgasm was trapped in there, one that could not be undone with just a release from me.
Even though he took care of himself from time to time, it still wouldn’t compare.
He’d never be completely satisfied with only his fist.