Chapter 8 Yes, Jakob
YES, JAKOB
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For a fraught instant, I'm actually afraid of Jakob. The look on his face is so intense, it leaves me shaking all over.
I wonder if perhaps I've miscalculated. Misunderstood the man I'm with.
His upper lip curls in a silent snarl, and he pulses in my hand, swelling as he nears the edge of climax. God, his cock is incredible. Fucking enormous, thick and long and hard as a rock in my hand, silky soft and straight as an arrow.
I should give him what he wants—but I want to see what he'll do. How else can I prove to him that I'm game to take anything he can give? Within reason, of course.
He's utterly still, frozen except for his deep, rapid breaths and the helpless pulse of his cock.
He flops backward to his back, and his spine arches up as I caress his throbbing length. For a man who has warned me repeatedly and professes to be an instant from coming, he seems rather intent on holding back.
I like to think it's because I'm making it feel so good, he doesn't want it to stop. I don't want him to control himself; he seems like a person for whom control is paramount, and I like to win.
Without warning, Jakob jackknifes upright, rolling off the bed with me in his arms. I'm airborne, my legs cinching around his waist automatically, and I feel his massive cock probing my slit through the barrier of my panties.
And my god, I want him inside me. A cock that big?
He'd rip me to pieces in the best possible way.
He's too big, perfectly so, and I want him.
I can’t help but grind against him, whimpering as he walks away from the bed with me in his arms. He cups my face, peers at me, stopping in the middle of the room.
He kisses me. It's soft, all wet lips and searching tongue, and I open for him, taste him, whimper into his mouth, soften for him. Rub my slit against him. "Jakob," I whisper against his mouth.
"I did warn you," he growls.
I hit the floor—he's dropped me abruptly, only slowing my descent at the last second.
I land on my knees almost by accident, and now he's towering over me, six feet and four inches of massive, powerful man, brutally built, dark and dangerous.
For a moment, all I can do is gaze up at him, cowed by his vicious male beauty.
His massive cock stands upright against his hard abs, the tip glistening with precum, my saliva dripping down the sides.
Veins stand out purple, and for an instant, my mind fills with visions of running my tongue over those veins.
But before I can turn the vision into reality, Jakob winds my hair around his fist, pulling it tight until my scalp stings. He grips his thick shaft in his other hand and tilts it away from his body. "Open your mouth, Brys."
Oh, fuck.
He meant it.
He really, actually meant it.
His tip nuzzles my lips, and I taste him—salty, tangy, not quite sweet but almost.
"Open, Brys."
I hesitate, but I know I'm going to do as he asks—commands. Hesitantly, I part my lips. Just a little bit.
It's all he needs.
I taste his flesh and his essence, and my mouth is forced wider by his cock—it's that or scrape him with my teeth, and his cock is too pretty for that. I earned this, after all. Fair is fair. He warned me, and here it is.
I expect him to thrust down my throat all at once, and mentally prepare for it.
That rough thrust never comes. Instead, he only gives me a little bit. Enough to fill my mouth, to taste him, to feel my jaw stretch.
And then he's gone, and my eyes fly open—just in time to see him reach down and gather a handful of my shirt and yank upward. I have no choice but to lift my arms and wriggle out of it or be throttled by the garment as he drags it upward.
The shirt is tight around my breasts, dragging them upward as the garment lifts, and then they drop heavily as he rips the shirt free, leaving me naked but for panties.
I lock eyes with him for a moment—and then lose his gaze as his eyes wander down to my bare breasts.
I'm breathing hard in anticipation and no little amount of fear—I realize I don't actually know this man at all, and I’m baiting him to lose control.
I like to take risks, yet I can't help but wonder if this one is foolish.
Too late to go back, now.
He wraps my hair around his fist again. Stares down at me with a hard, inscrutable expression. "Take it, Brys." I reach up with both hands and grasp him, but he grabs my wrists and pulls them wide. “No hands."
He releases my wrists, makes a loose pile of my hair on top of my head, and holds it there with both hands, clutching my head.
It's been a while since I've gone down on a guy.
I don't do it very often—not because I don't like it, though.
I do. But it's an act that a man must earn, for me.
A hunky twenty-four-year-old from the temp pool has no chance.
He gets to eat me out and like it, and if he's lucky and excels at cunnilingus, I'll let him fuck me.
The tables have turned.
It's me on my knees, now. My heart is pounding, but I'm secretly excited.
I like this.
I want it.
It's a secret fantasy I've never even committed to a diary, let alone out loud to another person, but it's very real, and very powerful.
Jakob hasn't earned this—he isn't asking. He's in control. He's taking it.
I'm so turned on my pussy is dripping.
"No," I murmur, and I know my eyes can’t hide my arousal or my anticipation.
His lips curve in a predatory grin. "Very well, then."
He touches my lips with a thumb, and my eyes go heavy-lidded. His thumb hooks over my lower lip, tugs down. "Open up, Brys. You want it. I can see it in your eyes." His thumb fills my mouth, salty against my tongue. "Open your mouth and take my cock. Now."
The snap of authority is sharp, icy, and hard. His thumb presses my jaw down.
I gaze up at him from under my lashes, my mouth opening slowly.
Without looking away from his hard, blazing black eyes, I lower my mouth toward his cock.
He has my wrists again. Brings my hands around and places them on his ass—which is bulbous and harder than steel and warm.
I groan at the feel of him in my hands, and I can't help but clutch his ass cheeks, grip and claw into the muscle and fat and flesh.
And then I taste him again, salty skin sliding over my tongue, smoky precum mingling with my saliva.
His eyes burn, hot and wild. "Take it, Brys. All of it." His hands tighten around my skull. "Take my cock. Now. Take it all."
"I can't," I whisper, and then wrap my mouth around him for a second before pulling away again. "It's too big."
"You're going to try anyway."
"I'm scared." I'm only partly playing.
I am, honestly and genuinely, more than a little frightened.
"Open." He tilts my head backward, so I'm looking up at him. "Open wide, Brys."
I open for him as wide as I can.
He fills my mouth, but he's so big I have to stretch my jaw to accommodate him. "Take a deep breath for me, now." I suck in a breath through my nose, gaze up at him with unfeigned fear so intoxicatingly arousing that my panties are soaked through. "You're gonna take it, now, Brys. Are you ready?"
"Mmm-mmm," I hum a wordless negative.
“Too bad. Hold on tight and remember to breathe."
My fingers dig into Jakob’s ass as he slowly drives his hips forward, thrusting his hot, enormous cock to the back of my throat. I hum a shrill whimper that ends in a ragged, gagging gulp. And oh god—oh dear lord, his cock is too much. Too big. I can't do this. It's too much.
I cast my gaze up at him, trying frantically to swallow around the thick, hot intrusion filling my throat.
"Good girl, Brys," he murmurs. "So damned sexy, watching you take my cock."
Oh…fuck.
Fuck, that's hot.
I never thought I had a praise kink, but I legitimately almost had an orgasm just now, so perhaps I do.
"You like that, don't you?" His growl is dark and hard and roiling with power. He knows I do. "You do. I can see it in your eyes, Brys. You love this. Don't you?"
I whimper again at his words.
"Don't you, Brys?"
"Mmmm-hmmm!” It's all I can manage, and that just barely as his cock slides deeper and deeper, millimeter by millimeter, and I have to breathe through my nose and gulp and gag for breath around him, and I’m on the cusp of panic.
As if able to read me like a book, Jakob withdraws, a string of saliva connecting my lips to his cock. His thumb caresses my lips. "Good girl, Brys. You take my cock beautifully."
"Thank you," I whisper, gazing up at him through lowered lashes, chest heaving, desire pooling between my thighs.
His grin is searing, pleased and aroused, blazing with erotic glee. He really gets off on this whole power trip thing. Why that's so fucking hot to me, I am unwilling to examine.
I know how freaky it makes me, wanting to be controlled and dominated.
And by the way, I'm not using the word “dominated" in the BDSM sense, but rather in the more literal, mental and emotional sense.
I'm not into leather gimp masks and ball gags and being hogtied like some sort of fly caught in a nylon spiderweb.
I just want a man to take away my control, my power, my authority.
To use me. To take away the decisions. And I want this on my terms, safely and consensually.
I want my agency back the moment we leave the bedroom.
I want it to be private between the two of us because I have a reputation to consider, one that is the foundation of my authority as CEO of Bennett Development, Incorporated.
Jakob's breathing is slow and deep and even—tightly controlled. His abs are braced. Thighs bunched and iron-hard. Jaw clenched.
He is at the ragged edge of climax and desperately fighting it back. My god, the man's control over himself is honestly very impressive.
He grips his cock in his fist, paints my lips with precum beaded on his tip. "Ask for it, Brys."