Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
The Taste of Him
Static
Madison’s timid little whimpers are a hit straight to my brain—and my fuckin’ dick. Which is harder than it’s ever been. My little treat is… such a surprise.
The scrape of his fingers against the metal as he scrambles for purchase is music to my ears. I bob my head over his length, sheathing my teeth the best I can, but fuck, these fuckers were not made for suckin’ a dick. No way, no how.
I know he feels ‘em with every drag of my mouth, but it seems the sharp bite of pain only makes my little darlin’ that much hotter.
Shit, he’s amazin’.
The lingering scent of his urine wafts into my nose whenever I bury my nose close to his groin.
I swallow around his cockhead, just to get as close as I can.
He fills my throat. Not too big, leaning on the average side, but definitely the perfect size to fit inside my throat without suffocating me or triggering my gag reflex too harshly.
Every time I pull back to tongue the ridge just beneath his head, I bury my fingers deeper in his crack. My gloves keep my fingertips from feeling much more than hot, damp heat.
A heat I want nothing more than to feel against my bare skin, but there’s no time.
Not yet, anyway.
But I’ll make sure to get more with my little treat.
He and I are far from done.
His body is glistening, the white light only accentuating the gleam. He flashes in and out, like the shutter of a disposable camera.
Now that I think about it… I wish I would’ve brought one. To capture this moment in time… and to send as a little reminder to my treat if he decides he wants to try and forget this. Forget me.
Yeah… I chuckle around his dick, making it buck against the vibration. My little darlin’ will never forget this.
Getting head from a clown is something no one would be able to stop thinking about.
I swallow greedily, relishing in the taste of him. Salty and musky. A little bitter.
Those hands of his keep scraping, the rest of his body bowing, resisting the binds keeping him secure. My eyes flash up to his left hand.
Before I can think of the consequences, I release the strap around his wrist, freeing just that hand. His fingers delve straight into my hair like they have a mind of their own. Like he needs to touch me.
He yanks my hair, ripping a few strands right out of my fuckin’ skull. I grunt. He tugs harder. Yanking, pulling me closer, further away. Like he can’t make up his mind.
I shake my head, and his dick stabs the inside of my cheek. He hisses as my teeth dig in near his base.
I drag my mouth back down at the wave of static flooding my ear. My heart hammers against my ribs. My fingers dig into Madison’s crease. I graze his hole…
“Oh, Jesus,” he wails. My eyes roll up, watching tears roll down his face. Dripping. His blunt nails carve into my scalp, surely shredding the skin. I slurp on his dick, relishing in the twitch, in the pulse in his balls as my chin taps against them with every downward drag.
Mmm, I bet his cum is just as sweet.
The first pulsing spurt against the back of my throat brings equal parts wonder and dread. I pull him out of my throat, my eyes rolling back as Madison unloads in my mouth. Thick. Salty.
Painfully fuckin’ sweet.
I keep sucking in heavy pulls, never wanting it to end. Madison is too good. Whimpering, tears still flowing through clumped eyelashes fanned across the planes of his cheekbones. Hand, fingers, clutching, gripping my skull. Keeping me pressed close. Pushing me away from the onslaught.
With a bated breath, I stand on surprisingly shaky legs, eyes lingering on the smears of my grease paint staining his skin. Marking him as mine.
My dick has a mind of its own, throbbing and aching inside my pants. And the sight of my little treat, the taste of him lingering on my tongue and in the back of my throat, only makes me teeter on the edge.
I grip his waistband and slowly drag his now mostly dry boxers over his legs with a hiss, hating the sight of his package disappearing from sight.
With gritted teeth, I force myself to remember this will happen again.
I’ll make sure of it.
Whether I show up in my darlin’s nightmares or his dreams, he will come to see me again.
And if he doesn’t…
I’ll find him.
I’ve never been one to care about moral consequences—or even the legal ones.
Once he’s covered, I hover above him, over him, filling his space with me. His arm lifts from his side, fingertips brushing over my arm, plucking at the striped fabric. A hesitant touch.
He moves up, tracing the worn, nearly shredded collar around my neck.
Staring through a half-lidded gaze, I unsnap the collar from my neck and drag it off. I trail the frilly end over his exposed abdomen, up his chest, before wrapping it around his neck and snapping it in place.
My head tilts to the side as I observe my treat. Collared by me, with my own collar…
Yeah, that’s nice. Really nice.
I push against him, nearly knocking the dolly off balance. Madison’s face is buried in my chest. Warm breath seeps through the fabric of my shirt. Resting my chin on the top of his head, I reach down and start undoing his binds.
One by one, the straps fall away until I’m forced to pull back to undo the ones pinning his ankles.
“Another safe worded. Two left.” My earpiece crackles.
It’s time to depart…
I eye Madison. From the top of his head to his shoes, bare everywhere except for his boxers and my collar.
Who knew I had such a sweet tooth?
I dip down, hunching over to press my lips to his ear. His eyes are wide as he watches me descend on him, limbs stiffening, even through the drugging haze of postcoital bliss—or maybe he’s still too scared to feel it properly.
Maybe it’s magnified tenfold…
Grazing a canine against his lobe, I rasp, “You better run, darlin’… ‘Cause the others are comin’ to get ya.” I delve my fingers into the longer hair atop his head and crank his head around to slam our mouths together.
I swallow his choking gasp with greed, thrusting my tongue between his lips for more. Madison’s wary at first, unmoving against me. But the moment my tongue slips against his, he groans too and falls pliant, like the perfect little victim.
Shit. Shit, yeah.
Hammering footsteps make me jolt. I rip my mouth away with a growl and shove Madison away. He trips from the sudden movement and clambers to the floor with a shriek.
Such a beautiful melody.
I can’t wait to hear him scream for me again.
I flash my eyes and take a step forward. “They’re comin’.” And with immaculate timing, more feet hammer down the hall. A door opens with a bang, then there’s a piercing scream.
Madison’s eyes shoot wide. He stares at the door, chest heaving. He looks back at me. I lunge with a cackle, and he shrieks and shoots to his feet, scrambling toward the door.
I watch with longing as my treat flies out of the room, leaving the door hanging open on one hinge. I yank on my hair with a silent growl, breathing heavily through my nose.
Reveling in the scent of his piss lingering in the air, the last piece of him left—aside from the clothes I ripped off his body, which will certainly be coming home with me—I press the tiny button on the edge of my earpiece. “One of the last ones is out and on the way.”
My eyes catch on the stain in the carpet below the dolly, and I grin.