Chapter 29 #2
“I just thought?—”
“The scars are there because that’s what I would do when I was alone. Before I found better ways to masturbate.” He shrugs as best he can when cuffed in that position. “The fantasy wasn’t as good without the girl.”
I lean forward and look into his eyes as I press the knife to his skin. “Oh really? And how is the fantasy now?”
His eyes snap to my chest, and he licks his lips. “Better than I ever imagined.”
I pull the blade downward, but I don’t stop when he cries out this time. I complete the motion, bringing an alarming amount of blood to the surface. Maverick must notice the concern on my face, because he starts reassuring me again.
But I’m not concerned for his safety. While he’s bleeding pretty good, it isn’t a dangerous amount. No, I’m concerned because my thoughts keep going to a very dark place. First the bloody visions, then Castle, and now?—
Fuck it .
I drag my palm through the blood pooling in the dip above his hip, then swipe it over his stiffening cock. When he realizes what I’m doing, he groans and watches as my hand slides up and down his shaft, painting it red. Looks like his fantasy isn’t the only one we’ll be fulfilling today.
After gathering more blood, I lather my chest with crimson as I continue stroking Maverick.
When my breasts are good and slick, I lean forward and smash his dick between them.
He rocks his hips upward with a moan that vibrates the mattress.
His head tips to the side as he fucks my crimson tits.
His eyes are glued to the place where we join, and the unbridled pleasure on his face has me dripping.
He meant what he said. He wants me, relaxed breasts and all.
As the blood begins to dry, it grows more difficult to slide his dick through the tight space, so I release my breasts and drop my mouth to the head of his cock. The metallic taste rockets over my tongue as I take him to the back of my throat.
The headboard groans as Maverick’s arms jerk downward, but his hands stay in place. “God, I just want to touch you.”
I twist his shaft with one hand and move my mouth in the opposite direction. I want him to touch me too. But not yet.
“If I can’t feel you with my fingertips, can you at least angle that ass toward me? I want to view your perfect pussy while you please me.”
Using my free hand, I lower my shorts and kick them away, then reposition to give him the view he desires. All the while, I keep sucking his dick like my life depends on it. It’s a delicate balancing act, but I manage it.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls. “You’re so wet for me.”
His cock jumps in my mouth, an involuntary twitch of excitement when he realizes how much I want him. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to pretend I don’t have a butthole he’s probably looking at. I’ve seen the TikToks.
“I’m close, sweetheart. If you keep up that rhythm, I’m going to come.”
I squeeze the base of his shaft in a death grip as I break the suction and lick the blood from my lips. “Don’t even think about it. Not until I’ve gotten mine.”
He tips his head back, and he curses under his breath as I stroke his shaft. “I can’t hold out with you. I’m trying, but you’ve turned me into a fucking minute man.”
“Good thing I only need a minute, then.”
I take his cock to the back of my throat again, fully realizing I’m forcing him to disobey my command by doing so. As I bob on his cock, I’m dragging him closer and closer to detonation as he claws away from the impending explosion.
My fingers run over his abs as I keep sucking him.
I feed on the way his stomach jerks with each ragged breath he takes.
He doesn’t want to come. He wants to do as I’ve asked, and I’m making that impossible.
Sweat dampens my fingertips as I splay my palm and drag my short nails down his chest. His hips jerk upward, ramming his dick down my throat.
My stomach clenches, and I gag. I can’t help it. While I’m pretty good at controlling the reflex, it’s not easy to do when I have a fucking meat log rammed in my windpipe. But it gets so much worse, because the moment I suck air through my nose, a spurt of come jets out of his dick.
I pull back, but the inches of penis I remove from my mouth seem never ending. All the while, Maverick uncontrollably comes, choking me in a really alarming amount of semen.
My brain does her very best to fight the urge to cough, which would send a gooey spray all over the bed, but she can’t do two things at once.
The urge to gag overpowers me, and I nearly piss myself as my stomach heaves again.
The glob of warm goo sitting heavily on my fucking tongue isn’t helping matters.
Keeping my lips pinched shut, I cast my gaze around the room, searching for somewhere to leave my offering. The orgasm-haze clears from Maverick’s head, and he realizes what’s happening.
“The mini bar!” he shouts as he flails his foot toward the tiny fridge. “There’s a vintage Bollinger in there. You can use it to wash it down.”
With my cheeks puffed out, I give him a thumbs-up before diving for the fridge.
But this is no longer a wash-it-down situation.
It has become a get-it-out-of-my-mouth moment.
I wish I could be a trooper and swallow, but now that I’ve tasted it and felt the large quantity, there is no other option than evacuation.
It also doesn’t help that I still need to cough the initial spurt out of my left lung.
I find the bottle right in the center of the fridge.
It’s hard to miss, as it’s the only occupant.
After snatching it up, I rip off the foil, remove the wire cage, and gently ease the cork free, careful that it doesn’t pop off and put out my good eye.
I debate going with the wash-it-down plan after all, but my stomach immediately disagrees.
To prevent making more of a scene, I do what I must and ungracefully offer my deposit to the bank of Bollinger before stuffing the cork back in place and setting the bottle on the long desk below the television.
With flaming cheeks, I grab the handcuff key from my bag and hurry to release Maverick. I toss the cuffs into the small waste bin once he’s free, all while coughing myself into a stupor.
“Why’d you throw them out?” he asks as he rubs his wrists.
“You were right. Those handcuffs are bad luck, and we are never using them again.” I grab my shirt from the floor and look for the arm holes.
Maverick smirks and sits up a little straighter. “There’s no need to get dressed. Who said we were done?”
I lower the shirt and look at him, still mortified by what just happened, but the look in his eyes washes that feeling away. He smirks up at me and motions me closer, and like the horny slut I am, I obey.