Chapter 10
Marcus
T he contract lay between us, a tangible testament to the commitment we had just made. My heart raced with anticipation, every breath charged with electricity. Lucy sat across from me, her green eyes wide, reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside me.
"I couldn't help but notice," I said, breaking the silence, "that you wrote that you were very interested in Cock Worship." My words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she nodded, biting her lip in that way that drove me wild.
"Yeah, I did," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked so damn beautiful, and I could hardly believe this was happening. It felt surreal yet intensely vivid all at once. "What do you think it would feel like to worship my cock?" I asked, leaning closer, my voice low and coarse with desire.
For a moment, she didn't speak. Her gaze dropped to the bulge straining against my pants. The tension crackled between us, a taut wire ready to snap. Finally, she met my eyes again, her expression a blend of curiosity and longing. "I think . . ." she started, hesitating as if searching for the right words. "I think it would feel amazing."
I stood up slowly, savoring the moment, letting the anticipation build. My hands moved to my belt, fingers deftly undoing the buckle. Her eyes followed every movement, wide and eager. Her breath hitched when I pulled down my pants, revealing myself fully to her.
Her reaction was immediate—eyes widening, lips parting slightly. I watched her take me in, her gaze reverential, almost awestruck. "I've never seen . . . it's beautiful," she breathed, licking her lips unconsciously. The compliment sent a jolt of pleasure through me, my cock responding, growing harder under her appreciative gaze.
"Can I touch it?" she asked, her voice soft and reverent, tinged with an edge of disbelief. "I don't feel worthy," she added, almost to herself, her hand hovering near but not quite daring to make contact.
"You're more than worthy," I replied, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached out, the anticipation hanging in the air like a static charge.
The moment hung heavy between us, the air electric with anticipation. Her hand hovered just above me, fingers trembling slightly as if caught between desire and disbelief. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing the silent command I had given her.
"Go ahead," I murmured, my voice low and steady despite the storm of sensation building within me.
Her touch was tentative at first, barely a whisper against my skin. But even that light contact sent a shiver racing up my spine. She exhaled sharply, her breath warm on my thigh, and I watched as she traced her fingers along my length, exploring every ridge and curve with an awe that was almost palpable.
"Wow," she breathed, eyes wide as she looked up at me through long lashes. "I wish I could touch myself," she admitted, her voice laced with longing. “But I want this to be all about you.” There was a determination in her gaze—this moment was mine, and she was committed to making it unforgettable.
"Can I squeeze it?" she asked, licking her lips like it was a tempting dessert.
"You may," I allowed, struggling to keep my cool. Inside, everything screamed at me to let go, but I held on, savoring the exquisite torture of her touch.
"Thank you, Daddy," she said, reverence in her tone. Her grip tightened slightly as she began to move, experimenting with the rhythm, pulling back my skin with gentle tugs. Each stroke threatened to unravel me, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
"Good girl," I managed to say, though how I formed words was beyond me. Her movements were cautious yet confident, the perfect combination of innocence and expertise.
I fought to control myself, not wanting this experience to end too soon. Her eagerness, her willingness to please, was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. And as she continued, my entire world narrowed down to the feel of her hand and the warmth of her gaze.
"I can't wait to taste you," she moaned, eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my heart race. Her voice was thick with desire, each word dripping with longing. "It looks so good. Thick and long and perfect."
"Not yet," I murmured, struggling to maintain control. The anticipation was exquisite, a tight coil in my gut. "What about my balls? Can you play with my balls?"
"Please," she pleaded, the word slipping from her lips like a prayer. Her touch was light, tracing delicate patterns over them, sending shivers down my spine. My hips jerked involuntarily, a low moan escaping me.
"Good girl," I praised, feeling the tension build inside me as her hand moved faster, her grip more assured. Her movements were precise, expert even, each pump perfectly calculated to drive me wild.
"I love this cock," she whispered, leaning in close. Her breath was warm against my skin, and the scent of her filled my senses. "Smells so good, Daddy."
She scattered kisses across my thighs, wet and lingering, intensifying the pulse of heat coursing through me. Each kiss left a trail of fire, and I fought to keep myself grounded. Her lips brushed my stomach, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
"God, Lucy," I groaned, unable to contain the raw pleasure coursing through me. She was relentless, and I was helpless against the tide of sensation threatening to drown me. My world narrowed to the feel of her mouth, her hands—every nerve ending alive and screaming for release.
"You're driving me crazy," I admitted, voice thick with need. But I didn't want it to end, not yet. Not when every second was pure ecstasy, not when she was doing such a damn good job of unraveling me piece by piece.
"Please, Daddy, I wanna taste."
Lucy's voice was a sultry whisper that made my heart race. Her eyes were full of need, and the way she looked at me—like I was her everything—was almost too much to bear. I hesitated, savoring the moment, letting the anticipation build until even I couldn't stand it anymore.
"You can taste," I said finally, my voice rough with desire. "You've earned it."
She didn't wait for another word. Her tongue traced the length of my shaft, slow and deliberate, from base to tip. Each stroke sent shivers racing through my body, igniting every nerve ending. The warmth of her mouth, the wetness—it was heaven.
"You taste so good," she breathed, her lips barely leaving my skin. Her reverence was intoxicating. "I want you in my mouth, but I just don't know if you'll fit."
"Don't worry, Baby girl," I growled, the words coming out low and primal. "We'll make it fit."
As she took me into her mouth, a wave of sensation crashed over me. Soft, warm, wet—she enveloped me completely. My head fell back, eyes closed, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. She drooled all over me, the slick warmth adding to the intensity.
Then she started to suck, skillfully, rhythmically. She took me deeper, inch by inch, until I was sure she'd reached her limit. But no, she pushed further, determined to take all of me. She gagged once, a reflexive spasm that only heightened the sensation, sending a bolt of electricity straight through me.
"God, Lucy," I groaned, forcing myself to hold back. I didn't want this to end—not yet. Every movement of her mouth, every flick of her tongue, was an exquisite torture. I was teetering on the edge, desperate to let go, but knowing I had to stay in control.
Lucy let out a long, low moan, and it rippled through me, intensifying the tight coil of desire in my core. Her voice was a sultry whisper that wrapped around me like a second skin. "Oh, Daddy," she purred, each word dripping with want. "This is making my pussy so wet. I feel like I'm leaking."
"Don't worry," I said, my voice rough with need. "I'm gonna plug that leak with my tongue in a minute."
"Fuck!" She squealed, her surprise genuine, her reaction electric. The word hung in the air between us, heavy with the weight of her emotion.
"Did my baby girl just cuss?" I asked, eyebrow arching in mock reprimand, though the thrill of her boldness thrummed through me.
"Sorry, Daddy," she murmured, looking up at me with those wide green eyes that seemed to hold the world. But there had to be consequences, a lesson learned.
"There's going to have to be a punishment for that, sweetheart," I said, gently but firmly. With practiced ease, I guided her over my knee, feeling the anticipation radiate from her as I tugged down her panties, exposing her bare skin.
Her perfect ass was a canvas under my hand, and I let my palm rest there, savoring the warmth of her flesh. She squirmed against me, pressing into the hard line of my cock beneath her, her wetness seeping onto me, heightening the raw tension between us.
"Be still," I instructed, every word deliberate, each touch an unspoken promise. This was a dance we both knew well, one that took us to the edges of our restraint and held us there, teetering on the precipice. And as I felt her tremble beneath my hand, I knew we were both exactly where we wanted to be—caught in the gravity of our shared hunger, poised to dive deeper into the darkness.
With her over my knee, I felt the anticipation coil within me. Each breath she took was a promise of what was to come. My hand rose and fell in a deliberate rhythm, the first smack resonating through the room like a crack of thunder.
"One," I whispered, feeling her body tense beneath my palm.
"Please, Daddy," she whimpered, her voice thick with need. But I shook my head, savoring the power of the moment.
"Two," I counted, my hand connecting again with her skin, the impact sharper, more insistent.
"Touch me," she begged, writhing against my lap, but I denied her with silence, my resolve unwavering. Her pleas only spurred me on.
"Three." The third strike left a rosy imprint, her flesh yielding under my firm touch. She moaned, a mix of pain and pleasure in her voice.
"Four." Her body bucked, and I could feel the heat radiating from her, an incendiary force that threatened to consume us both.
"Last one, baby girl." The fifth stroke was the hardest, a crescendo of sensation that echoed through her shivering form.
"Marcus," she gasped, reaching back, fingers fumbling until they found my cock, hard and throbbing beneath her. Her touch was electric, sending jolts of desire racing through me.
"You're a naughty girl," I murmured, unable to hide the edge of admiration in my voice. Her hand moved slowly, experimentally, wrapping around me and beginning a tentative pump.
"Yes, Daddy," she acknowledged, voice laced with mischief as she increased her pace.
I landed another swat, this time pinching the tender skin of her butt, eliciting a delicious squeal. I couldn't resist any longer; my own hand snaked its way between her legs, finding her soaked and ready.
"God, you're so wet," I muttered, my fingers exploring her warmth, slickness coating my hand. Her grip tightened on me, mirroring the intensity of my touch.
"Feels good," she breathed.
Together we moved, our hands a synchronized symphony of pleasure and need. Her juices mingled with my own arousal, a testament to the fire we'd ignited together.
My fingers moved with a rhythm of their own, sliding inside Lucy's wet heat. Every whimper that escaped her lips sent a shiver through me. Her hand on my cock was relentless, pumping with an urgency that matched the racing of our hearts.
"God, Marcus," she moaned, her voice dipping into that sweet spot between pleasure and desperation. I felt her body tense, muscles coiling like a spring ready to release. She was close, so damn close.
"That's it, baby girl," I encouraged, feeling the tension build in my own core as I watched her come undone. Her walls fluttered around my fingers, drawing me deeper into the intoxicating mix of sensations we shared. With a final cry, she shattered, coating my hand with her release.
I didn't give her time to recover. Flipping her over, I spread her thighs wide, hungry for her taste. My tongue traced her folds, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch. She writhed beneath me, her hands tangling in my hair, urging me on.
"Marcus," she gasped, her voice a symphony of need. I focused on her clit, teasing it with expert flicks of my tongue until she bucked against my face. The taste of her orgasm filled my mouth, rich and heady.
"Fuck," she breathed, her body trembling as she came again, this time into my eager mouth. But she wasn't done; she wriggled, managing to position herself just right, taking my throbbing length into her mouth.
"Jesus, Lucy," I groaned, the sensation of her warm, wet mouth almost too much to bear. Her skillful tongue worked wonders, and I knew I was in trouble. The room seemed to shrink around us, our connection the only thing anchoring me to reality.
Lucy’s mouth was a revelation, a perfect storm of heat and pressure. I watched her, entranced by the sight of my cock disappearing between her lips, feeling the pull of her suction as if it were a tether to sanity itself.
"God damn," I groaned again, my voice rough with the strain of holding back, though every muscle in me screamed for release. Her tongue danced, tracing patterns that sent electricity surging through me, igniting every nerve she touched.
Her eyes found mine—those green eyes, wide and filled with an intensity that matched my own. In them, I saw everything: her determination to please, her desire to be here, in this moment, owning it. It was as if she could see right through the layers of caution I’d built around myself, stripping them away with each flick of her tongue.
"Lucy," I rasped, my hands finding their way into her hair, guiding her gently though she needed no guidance at all. She’d found a rhythm, one that threatened to unravel me completely. The room faded around us, narrowing to the point of contact where her mouth met my cock.
I felt the tension coil tighter inside me, a spring wound to its breaking point. She seemed to sense it too, increasing her pace, hollowing her cheeks just so, drawing me impossibly deeper into the warmth of her.
My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, needing more. And then, her hand joined her mouth, stroking what she couldn’t reach, and it was all too much.
"Lucy," I choked out, unable to hold back any longer, "I'm gonna—" But the words dissolved into a moan as the dam broke. Release slammed through me, powerful and consuming, spilling into her waiting mouth.
She didn’t falter, swallowing with a grace that left me breathless, her eyes never leaving mine. As the last shudders of pleasure passed, I let out a shaky breath, awed by her unwavering focus.
"Good girl," I murmured, my voice a mix of praise and wonder. Her answering smile was radiant, softening the edges of the storm we’d just weathered together.