Chapter 10 #2
My gasp stalls in my throat. My back bows, body synced to his without a choice.
“And when I finally fuck you Em…” he growls, lips brushing the shell of my ear, each word sharp enough to leave marks, “you’ll be thanking me for every goddamn second I made you wait.”
His fingers dig into my hip, possessive, like he’s branding me, marking what’s his. His body is all heat and tension pressed against mine, and my lungs barely work with the weight of him so close.
Then he leans in, his mouth brushing my ear, voice rough and commanding.
“Take out my cock.”
My pulse stutters. Every part of me clenches at the way he says it—low, filthy, a dare wrapped in heat and control. Daring me to defy him.
“You want it, don’t you?” he murmurs, grinding against me. The hard line of him leaving no question. “You know you’ve been thinking about it. Fucking aching for it. So take it out.”
I swallow hard, my fingers already moving, shaky and eager, fumbling with his belt like I might fall apart if I don’t get to him fast enough.
He watches me with fire in his eyes, his breath hot against my cheek.
“That’s it. Don’t fucking stop.”
And fuck, I don’t. I can’t. Because this… him, has me undone before I’ve even wrapped my hand around him.
His hand snaps around my wrist the second I free him, rough, making me gasp. His cock is heavy in my hand, hot, hard, and fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows the effect he has on me.
He leans in again, his voice nothing but filth and dominance, low and dark right against my ear.
“Get on your knees,” he growls. “Suck my cock.”
The command does something to me.
There’s no hesitation.
No room for thought, just raw, fucked-up need.
“I’ve let you tease me long enough,” he says, his tone sharper now, dragging his thumb across my lower lip. “So get the fuck down there and do what we both know you’ve been dying to do.”
My knees hit the floor before I even realize I’ve moved. He lowers his gaze, watching me with that wicked smirk of his. Like he owns the world, and maybe me in this moment, too.
“Open that pretty little mouth of yours,” he mutters, his hand threading through my hair, his grip tightening. “And don’t fucking stop until I say so.”
My lips part, breath shaky with want as I lean in, wrapping my fingers around the thick girth of his cock. He’s burning hot, and hard as fuck. His veins throbbing under my palm, already slick at the tip with pre-cum.
I drag my tongue around it. Slow, teasing. Lapping up every drop like I’ve been starving for it. Then I take him deeper, letting my mouth slide over his cock, wet and hungry, until my lips stretch wide around him.
The second I do, he growls. It’s low and filthy. His hand twisting in my hair like he’s already losing control.
And shit, that sound he makes… That sound fucking wrecks me.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he breathes. “Your pretty little mouth looks so fucking good wrapped around my cock.” His hips jerk forward just slightly. Controlled but needy, and the sound he makes, is enough to send heat spiraling between my thighs.
“Take it all,” he commands. “Take every fucking inch I give you. I want to feel your throat around me. I want to feel you choke and show me how much you want this.” His voice is filthy, feral, and dripping with need.
Every word has me sinking lower under his spell. Has me hollowing my cheeks as I take him deeper, addicted to the way he shudders.
“Fuck, that mouth was made for this,” he groans, head tipping back. “It was made to be used.”
And right now, I want nothing more than to let him use it.
His grip tightens in my hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to hold me there. Enough to remind me who’s in control.
His cock twitches on my tongue, and when I glance up at him through my lashes, the look he gives me is pure fucking sin.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he says, his voice rough with restraint. “Don’t fucking look away.”
I do as I’m told, my lips wrapped around him. My mouth stretched full as he begins to move. Slow at first. Shallow thrusts that let me feel the weight of him, the drag of his cock across my tongue.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathes, jaw clenched, sweat already starting to gather at his temples. “God, your mouth… it’s like you want to be fucking ruined.”
He thrusts a little deeper, groaning when he feels the back of my throat, his free hand bracing against the table behind him. “Yeah, take it, baby. Let me fuck that mouth.”
And he does.
He rocks into me, each stroke longer, deeper, more deliberate. My throat tightens, tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I moan around him. It’s needy, wrecked, addicted. The sound makes him hiss through his teeth, hips jerking forward with a rough snap.
“Fuck, that noise,” he growls. “That little whimper says it all. You need my cock down your throat.”
I don’t pull away.
I can’t.
Not when he sounds like that. Not when his cock is heavy and slick with spit, fucking into my mouth—owning it.
“Look at you,” he groans. “On your knees for me, mouth so full of cock you can’t even think straight. Bet you’re dripping down your thighs right now, aren’t you?”
He slows his thrusts, just slightly, pushing in deep and holding it there, watching my lips stretched tight around him, my throat fluttering as I fight not to gag.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “You were made for this. And I’m not stopping until I come in that gorgeous mouth.”
And with the way he’s fucking me. Deep, claiming, relentless. I know he means it. His thrusts get rougher, more desperate, more possessive, like he’s barely holding on. He holds me steady, guiding me, using me, his cock fucking into my mouth with precision.
“Fuck,” he grits out, his voice fraying at the edges, breath ragged. “You’re gonna make me come… fuck… you want that, don’t you? You want me to lose it down your fucking throat.”
His hips snap forward, and I feel him pulse, hard and hot, right at the back of my throat.
“Fuuuccck,” he groans, loud, raw, wrecked.
His head tips back, the muscles in his thighs going tight as he unloads. His cock twitching as he spills into my mouth. Hot, thick, and so much. He doesn’t stop until he’s spent and panting. His hand still tight, gripping my hair like I’m the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, looking down at me with blown pupils and a ruined expression. “That mouth… fuck.”
I swallow every drop of him, lips still wrapped around him until he finally eases back. His fingers slowly unwind from my hair, but his hand lingers, brushing along my cheek, gentle now, almost reverent, like he’s not ready to let go. From the dark, wild look in his eyes, I know he won’t.
He eases back just enough, slowly pulling his cock from my mouth, watching the way my lips cling to him until the very last second. His chest rises and falls with every breath, sweat at his temples, cock still slick and hard despite what he just gave me.
He strokes himself slow and unbothered, gaze trailing over every inch of me, weighing his options, deciding whether to worship me or wreck me.
“Get that pretty pussy up on the table,” he says, voice rough and full of heat. “Now.”
I don’t move right away. I’m stunned, shaking, still tasting him on my tongue.
He steps closer, hand still wrapped around his cock, the head flushed and dripping. “Don’t make me say it again.”
I scramble to obey, my body already moving before my brain catches up. I slide onto the table behind him and lean back on my hands, chest rising fast, heart pounding. Loud. Relentless. It knows exactly what’s coming.
And fuck, I want every second of it.
His gaze is dark, hungry, devouring. He steps between my legs, pushes my knees wider, lips wet with anticipation, uncertain what he’s going to do to me first, only that he will.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he mutters, voice dripping with filth and control. “I might feast on this sweet little cunt ‘til you’re crying. Or I might just slide my cock into you and fuck you stupid.”
He bends forward, face inches from where I’m already soaked, already aching.
“Either way, baby,” he breathes, “you’re not leaving this table without being ruined.”