Chapter 8 #2
Shifting away from the sensation, I move instinctively.
His hand falls from my hair to lock behind his head, every inch the indolent god.
I slide the strap of his belt out of the buckle, tugging until it comes loose from the prong, then separating the two until I can pull it out of his belt loops.
A glance up shows him darting his tongue out to wet his lips, and I look away just as quickly.
A few jerky movements later and his suit trousers are unbuttoned.
The sound of the zipper sliding down the teeth seems unreasonably loud in the quiet of the back seat.
He lifts to accommodate me as I struggle to shift his pants and briefs down his hips, and then his cock bobs out, hard and long, bigger than I remembered and already weeping translucent pre-cum at the tip.
It glides down his hardness, sleek in the glint of the passing lights.
A hiss of pained arousal greets my ears, and I swallow back a gasp, feeling the heat of hatred burn low in my belly at the thought of him getting any enjoyment from this.
The piercing glints in the low overhead lights. An apadravya, I recall, after some late-night internet searching in the days after I left his bed. It had led me to a Wikipedia article whose pretty picture was almost as mouthwatering as O’Connor’s is in real life.
Almost.
Of course, the biggest jerk I’ve ever met has a cock worthy of poetry.
O’Connor’s knowing smirk catches my momentary hesitation.
My teeth ache to sink into his flesh. My fingers cramp as I resist the urge to tighten them until he squeals for relief. He may want to break me, but I want to destroy him. I hold back the impulse, but only just.
Fingers probe my lips, and I send him another startled glance. “Get them wet,” he instructs in that same low, commanding voice.
Is he testing me? Seeing how far he can push me before I cower in fear? A sense of understanding crashes over me. Of course he is. He has me under his thumb. Now he’s going to test my boundaries to see how much I can take. How easy I’ll be to break again.
I grant his fingers entrance, and they slide over my tongue, filling my mouth with the warm surge of a taste that’s solely him. They press deep, pillaging until they’re nearly to my throat, and I almost choke. When I don’t, his eyes twitch, and he presses farther back, triggering my gag reflex.
My body seizes as I make a retching sound, and he finally relents.
He gathers the saliva in his hand and uses it to coat his cock in a measured, familiar stroke as he studies my reaction.
I want to look away, but I can’t, wary of what he’ll do next.
I’m entranced by the sight even though I don’t want to be.
“So obedient,” he murmurs as he thumbs the wetness coating my lips. “That’s good. You’re going to be my perfect little obedient wife now, aren’t you? So good for me. So sweet, like I know you can be.”
He moves, and I flinch, but it doesn’t deter him as he delves into the neckline of my wedding dress.
I can only watch, numb, as he shifts it lower so he can free my breasts from the bustier, shoving the material out of the way.
His big hands cup my breasts as I quake, the rough pads of his fingers rasping over my nipples.
He shifts and takes one in his mouth, his tongue flicking it into a hard point.
I bite back the sound that rises in my throat.
He releases me with a pop and traces the sensitive peak once more with his mouth before he pulls away.
His gaze ravages what he’s done like he’s inspecting all his work for flaws.
Is that really what this is about? He wants to punish me even more for sneaking out that night, for forcing him to marry me, for defying him?
I don’t have time to think about it before he’s taking the other nipple into his mouth, teeth nipping cruelly until I finally make a pained sound of protest in the back of my throat.
“You look so pretty on your knees. Just like I remember.”
There’s no mistaking what he’s asking me to do, not with the wet sounds of his hand working his ten-inch dick and the hungry gleam in his eye. “What makes you think I won’t use my teeth?” I hate myself for how my voice breaks, betraying my nerves.
His hand braces at the back of my neck in a warning. A threat. I meet his eyes and feel the thunderous surge of defiance and righteous fury flood me, washing away the woman I’d been this morning. Some of it must show because he smiles, and his hand on the back of my neck tightens.
“Go on, then. Make it hurt,” he answers. “Is that why you won’t let me back into your bed? You’re punishing me, aren’t you? For picking your sister? That’s fine, pet. Punish me. We both know how much you’re already aching for my cock.”
His grip is unrelenting around the back of my neck, twisting in my hair as he pulls me inexorably forward.
I shouldn’t resist so I can get this over quickly, but there’s an iron will inside my spine that can’t give in without making him work for it—at least a little.
The driver is still a few feet away, and the thought of him hearing me keeps me from screaming in protest.
“Keep your eyes up. I want to watch you as you take me.”
I obey, locking my eyes with his as I part my lips and wrap them around him, going slow so I can adjust to the discomforting awareness of the piercing, heavy and cold on my tongue. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, and his hand twists even more in my hair.
“Thought I’d imagined how good you felt, but fuck if it’s not better than the last time.
” He tugs me forward, his other hand coming to force me into a punishing rhythm as I sputter around him, trying to breathe despite my mouth being stuffed full.
My hands are on his thighs for balance, and they ripple underneath me, a reminder of how dangerous and powerful he is and how completely I’m at his mercy.
As though to test me, he pushes deeper, forcing his cock down the back of my mouth, farther than I’ve ever taken one. I choke, unable to breathe, panic exploding in my mind. He’s too big… I can’t.
He keeps me there until spots dot my vision, and then, just when I think I’m going to pass out, he relents.
I pop off, my chest heaving, tears running down my face.
Black, inky drops stain my dress, and I bet if I looked in a mirror, I’d see them leaving paths of despair carved in their wake.
I wipe at the snot dripping from my nose, the drool trailing down my chin, the tears in thick tracks down my cheeks, and he knocks my hands away.
“Leave it. I want to see you ruined for me.”
A sob barks out of my chest, but I struggle, fingers digging into his thighs until I tuck away the emotion behind a wall of impenetrable self-control.
Before he can shove his dick back into my mouth, I suck him back in and revel as his shocked inhale fills my ears. He wants me ruined? Fine. He wants me to make it worth his while? He’d better enjoy it while he can.
This time, his hands are gentle in my hair, letting me suck him at my pace, which is frantic but determined. My head bobs, and my tongue slicks up and down his length. All the while, I’m promising the first chance I get, I’m going to cut off his dick and shove it down his throat.
Almost like he can read my mind, his lips quirk, and he says, “Hating me only makes me like it more.”
I take him deeper, wanting to get this over with so I can get the taste of him out of my mouth, and the sound of his pleasured gasps out of my memory.
He hisses, “Fuck, I knew I wasn’t imagining how good you were at this. You feel so fucking good.”
My traitorous body goes hot and tight at his praise. It’s sick and twisted, but bolts of pleasure shoot straight between my legs. His display of dominance shuts off every neurotic thought in my brain. For the first time since the masquerade, my mind is beautifully, simply blank.
“Yeah, fuck, take me deep. Just like that.”
Evidence of my submission delights him further, until he’s thrusting to meet every downstroke, his fingers cupping my cheeks to smear through salt and paint me in humiliation. His eyes glaze over, and he fists his hands in my hair as he drives deeper, heedless of my struggling sounds.
The worst part isn’t the violation. It’s the satisfaction that burns in my chest as I watch him succumb to me.
That I can find some enjoyment from this degradation is devastating to the point that when he fills my mouth with his thick, salty spend, I’m still crying.
It hollows out my chest, threatens to choke me as I struggle against the quakes.
It’s worse than the night we spent together.
So much worse, because I know the lengths he’s willing to go.
I know exactly how ruthless he can be now. And a twisted part of me enjoys it.
“Swallow it,” he grunts after pulling out of my mouth. “All of it. Every drop. Then I want to see that pretty tongue all clean for me.”
Glaring at him, I struggle to do as he tells me as I fight to breathe and stem the flow of tears. Finally, I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. His slow, sinister smile makes me want to claw it off his face.
“Good girl. Now come here.”
He reaches for me before I can resist and hauls me into his lap.
My eyes bulge when I feel him still semi-hard underneath me.
Then, before I have enough time to organize my thoughts or prepare a defense, he’s ripped the lace thong under my dress.
He pockets the tattered remnants. I hadn’t realized I could feel even more vulnerable, but I do.
“If we had more time, I’d take your pretty little cunt right here, but we’ll have to make this fast. Spread your legs for me.”
The blush on my cheeks intensifies when he shoves my dress up my hips and finds me bare.
A rumble sounds from the back of his throat.
He folds himself beneath me and slides down until his torso rests on the car seat, and I’m hovering over his mouth.
A bark of disbelief rips from my throat before he seals his mouth over my clit and sucks.
Hard. Adrenaline lights a fiery path from the anger swirling in my chest to where the unwanted friction stokes a spark between my thighs.
“O’Connor, fuck, stop. I don’t want—”
Popping off, he pins me with a look. “You’ll let me tell you what you want.”
He holds my thighs with a forceful grip, keeping me against the steady onslaught of his devious tongue as he licks me until all my objections wither and die in my throat.
I try to smother him—I swear to God, I give it my all—but he doesn’t make the slightest sound of protest or even attempt to get me to lift my thighs from where they bracket his head.
I grip the headrests of the bench seat to hold myself upright, my fingers digging into the leather as I do everything in my power to block the sensations from converging into anything other than horror.
He may be lethal, but he’s also patient and too observant for my own good. The drive from the cathedral to our destination must be longer than I thought because even though I’m trying not to react to his relentless assault, I find my resolve weakens far sooner than I thought possible.
I close my eyes, and that seems to make it worse.
I can feel every flick of his tongue as it circles the sensitized nub of my clit.
He draws it into his mouth and sucks until it’s throbbing and swollen with blood, tender to the slightest movement.
He teases my lips and thighs with his fingers, scoring them lightly until I shake above him, muscles fighting for control over a reaction that can’t be mastered.
The sounds of his mouth working are obscene, filling the small space.
He plunges his tongue inside me, thick and far more dexterous than I thought possible.
His nose bumps against my clit with every lick, and I swallow back the moans that threaten to spill from my throat.
O’Connor is even worse than I imagined. I thought he’d use my mouth, and that would be the end.
That he would revel in his display of ownership and be done with it.
No, this is even worse. He is determined to make my body enjoy it.
The more I try not to respond, the more I find I lose control of my reactions.
His hands move to cup my ass cheeks until he works my hips into a rhythm against his mouth.
Everything that isn’t in his control trembles in an effort to hold myself back, but I realize too late that it forces an almost echo chamber effect so that I feel every thrust or lick a thousandfold the more I try to ignore it.
He works my body into a frenzy with an unforgiving, single-minded focus that sends tendrils of fear snaking through my consciousness. By the time I realize I’m hovering on the edge, ready to throw myself off it, it’s too late.
He seems to realize it before I do and wraps his arms around my hips, pulling me more fully onto his face.
I try to fight him with all that I have, but it only works to rub my clit and cunt against his devastating tongue.
My thighs clench around his head, and he groans as I tremble to keep my orgasm at bay.
The sound of his obvious enjoyment trips something in my brain.
He eats my pussy like he’s never wanted anything in this world as much as he wants to have me come all over his face.
And because I don’t want it just as badly, because I know it’s wrong and I hate him for it, hearing him moan and pant for me causes me to let my guard down just enough that the waves of heat and bliss overtake me from low in my belly until they radiate upward like waves of sunlight.
His low groan of satisfaction is muffled because his tongue thrusts inside me to lap up my release, drinking it down like I’m the finest wine.
When I’m racked with aftershocks, he pulls back with a satisfied gleam in his eye, lips wet from me. He licks them clean, his eyes half-hooded, and says, “Who knew my wife could be such a good little slut?”