Chapter Four
A Little Teeth
Livia
Never in a million years would I have ever guessed I’d have Carter Fabri’s face between my thighs.
But here we were, well into our first lesson, and he’d earned the chance.
I sensed his nervousness from the moment I told him to unbutton his shirt, but I also picked up on his anticipation.
It was different from the excitement of the submissives I’d had in the past. His body reacted to my praise, sure.
I had a feeling he’d like the humiliation even more, once we broke into that kind of play.
But he was more excited to learn.
From the first correction I gave him, he was listening. He was tuned in, asking if he was doing it right, watching my face for a reaction, smiling when I gave him something as small as an open-mouthed pant of approval.
My hesitation over this whole agreement was dissipating the more the lesson went on.
Because, apparently, my new kink was an eager-to-please student.
Carter’s nostrils flared as he dragged his eyes down the length of me to where I had my legs spread for him. One heel was hiked up onto the back of the chair he sat in, the other one working to keep me steady. I held onto the chair with both hands at first, too, and bucked my hips to his mouth.
“I said eat.”
He obeyed immediately, but when he dove straight into tonguing between my lips, I pulled away.
“Have you learned nothing? That’s not how you kissed my breasts or my thighs, is it?”
Carter swallowed, his eyes searching mine before he leaned in to try again.
If he were my true submissive, I would have made him answer me. I would have made him call me mistress and I would have punished him for not knowing how to properly eat me out.
But this was a teacher and student, a moment of education.
I was almost as out of my wheelhouse as Carter was.
Still, I held the power I always craved, the control I would never be okay sharing. It was still him at my command and me calling the shots. It was just with a new twist.
I noted the way his arms shook against the restraints I had him in as he began again. This time, he toyed with me, nosing my clit before he teased it with a single slash of his tongue.
Better, I thought. But I didn’t reward him yet.
I waited, watching, assessing what his first moves were.
I was learning just the same as he was, except I was learning about the man I was working with, how he ticked, how to coach him, what areas would need coaching in the first place.
I had no idea where he was on the scale of adept intimacy, but I was figuring it out.
He clearly wasn’t brand new to eating a woman out. I knew that from how quickly he went from teasing and kissing my cunt to paying attention to my clit. Good. He knew where it was, at least.
But I could also tell he wasn’t confident in his performance.
His eyes kept darting up to mine, brows pinching just enough to let me know he wondered what was going on in my mind.
He’d never stay with one motion too long before changing — sucking and then licking, kissing and then a nip of his teeth.
“If you want a woman to fall apart for you, you have to make her feel safe to do so,” I told him, petting his hair.
“She needs to know she doesn’t need to be shy or worried about being selfish.
So, how do you communicate that to me? How do you let me know that you like being there, between my legs, tasting me?
How do you let me know you’re not in a rush, that I can relax and take my time, and you won’t feel burdened? ”
That seemed to sink in for my student, his brows furrowing in determination now instead of concern.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he slowed everything down — the kisses against the inside of my thighs, the drags of his tongue from my opening up to my clit, the swirl of it once he reached that detonator.
Without further instruction, he began to make out with my pussy, his kisses long and sloppy and open-mouthed.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Just like that. It feels so good.”
His efforts doubled, and I knew from how his shoulders flexed that he ached to touch me. I also knew he could probably get me there faster if I let him. But this was a lesson in oral — and true oral meant only using his mouth.
Still, maybe I could help him out a bit.
Without warning, I pulled back, carefully removing my heel from where it was balanced on the back of the chair. I took a step away from Carter and beamed at the sight it left me with.
Fuck, it was sexy, the way he was bound in my chair, shirt open, hair mussed, cock dripping. Every breath rocked his chest, and the rhythm of it combined with the trip hop playing set my blood buzzing.
I loved to see him at my mercy.
I loved to know he was desperate to please me.
“Stand up,” I commanded.
It wasn’t an easy feat. I watched him struggle a bit to stand and get his bound arms up and over the back of the chair at the same time. Combined with his pants and briefs restricting his legs, it wasn’t exactly graceful.
But he managed, and once he was standing, it was an even more gorgeous sight. His cock was heavy between his legs, jutting out over his pants, the tip of it slick and inviting.
I wanted to taste him.
The thought surprised me. This was Carter we were talking about.
This was the kid who’d been tossing shameless lines at me since the day we met — all performative swagger, no follow-through.
I’d always seen him as more of a harmless flirt, someone I dismissed with a sarcastic quip and an arched brow.
I’d brushed him off with a smirk and a roll of my eyes, playing the part of unimpressed more times than I could count.
But right now, he was following my direction.
He was obeying.
And it turned me on.
“Sit,” I said, nodding to the plush rug in front of my fireplace.
This maneuver was more graceful, Carter somehow making it look easy when he sat without the use of his hands. I wordlessly bent to untie his wrists, then ordered him to lay back. Once he did, I bound him again — this time, his hands above his head.
“The same rules apply, Rook,” I said. “No touching. Mouth only. Your hands stay here. Understand?”
He nodded.
I stood, stripping out of my panties and garters.
And then I straddled his face backward so I could have a view of that beautiful cock.
Carter groaned at the first taste of my pussy in this position, and because I knew it’d be tempting for him, I rested my shins over the top of his biceps and hooked my heels over his forearms to keep his hands in place above his head.
Then, slowly, I began to ride.
“Follow my lead,” I told him. “Can you figure out what I want without me having to ask?”
His need to do well wafted off him like smoke, each stroke of his tongue purposeful and seeking. I rolled my clit against that tongue when he extended it, moaning at the friction, and then I stilled, seeing if Carter would catch the hint.
And like a good boy, he repeated the motion, tongue flat and lapping at my clit as he hummed deep in this throat. The sound was delicious, and the only regret I had from sitting backward was that I couldn’t watch his eyes as he tasted me.
But I had a view of his hard cock, now so erect it didn’t even rest against his stomach like it did in the chair. I was tempted to reach for him and give him one pump just to fuck with him, but I resisted.
Tonight was about him learning to make me come.
He’d be lucky if I let him do the same.
Pushing up onto my knees, I toyed with my breasts, riding Carter’s face as I continued to coach him through it.
“Softer, slow it down.”
“Now pick it up.”
“Use a little teeth.”
“There you go.”
“Circle my clit with your tongue.”
“Now suck.”
“That’s it.”
“Harder.”
“Faster.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t stop.”
He moaned and panted with every command, every praise, his body growing more and more rigid under mine the closer he got me to release. And when I felt like he’d taken the lesson I’d provided, I gave him what he’d worked so hard for.
I let my eyes flutter shut, let my head fall back and my mind turn off. I was no longer teacher. I was taker. My lips parted, a low moan rumbling out of me as I plucked at my nipples and let myself sink lower onto Carter’s face.
He groaned, the sound vibrating through me, and I ground my hips harder.
“Suck my clit,” I breathed. “Little pulses. Don’t fucking stop.”
When he surrounded my clit with his lips and did as I asked, my orgasm began to crest. Tingles started in my toes and slowly raced up my legs, body buzzing, blood humming. Carter sucked in rhythmic pulses just like I’d asked, and I fucked his face hard, reminding him who was in control.
And this was the part I loved most.
When a sub was working hard for me, when my pleasure was at the forefront of their mind, when I was revered and cherished.
“Such a good boy,” I purred. “You want me to come?”
No answer but for him to suck harder, meeting my urgency. I smiled and rolled my hips harder, faster, chasing my release.
And that’s when I noticed it.
I wasn’t the only one tensing.
Carter’s abs were strung tight, flexing in labored twitches. His work between my legs was just as good as before, but I could tell it was harder for him now. His thighs were taut. His toes were curling.
He was trying not to come.
His breath caught, a groan vibrating my cunt again. It felt delicious, and the way he was sucking my clit, the sight of him nearly losing control just from tasting me.
It was all I needed.
“Hold it,” I warned him as I found my release, but as I let go, as I fucked his face harder and moaned and let the wave take me under, he broke.
My first moan had him drawn tight, his hot breath choking out of him against my pussy. He didn’t let up, didn’t stop pleasuring me, but when I moaned again and fully succumbed to my orgasm, he followed right behind me.