12 #3
He takes advantage of my mouth opening to cuss him out, to shove his cock between my lips, filling me so suddenly and fully that I don’t even have time to react. But then the gag reflex kicks in when he hits the back of my throat. I wheeze around his cock, and tears leak out of the side of my eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I just love seeing you cry around my cock, brat. Take it harder. Fuck!”
He pumps into me, each of his thrusts slamming against my throat. His hand is still holding my hair, forcing my face back, while the other wraps itself around my neck and starts to squeeze.
“That’s right, Lia. Take me. Take all of me.”
I start freaking out, because his hand is squeezing me hard, and with his cock deep-throating me, breathing is becoming a real struggle. And yet, the panic and the lack of air, his forcefulness as he pushes into me, his deep voice, all of it… does something to me.
My hand edges down hesitantly toward my folds, and I… touch them.
At once, Logan pinches my nose, and I whip my hands away, batting at his jeans to make him stop.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe!
“You look just like a little ghost right now,” he taunts, while it feels like I’m choking to death.
“A little freckled ghost. White as a sheet with little splotches of red. I kind of like you this way. Should I allow you to breathe again? Are you going to be my good girl, Lia, and not touch yourself, or do I need to turn you into my little ghost?”
I’ll be good! Let me breathe, Logan! Please!
Just when it feels like my eyes are going to roll back in my head, he lets go of my nose, and I desperately suck in air through my nostrils.
I don’t get in very much oxygen before he groans, and I feel something hot and salty hit the back of my throat.
“Keep your mouth open,” he growls. “Swallow every last drop.”
His hand leaves my neck, and I take long, sputtering breaths before choking on the ropes of seed that land on my face and in my mouth.
“Every last drop, brat,” he warns, wiping my face clean and making me suck off his fingers. “Clean up the mess you’ve made.”
It takes me some time to emerge from the high that he caused by constricting my breathing. When I do, I realize that I’m sucking his thumb… like a baby.
And his face is split into a wide grin.
Asshole.
Biting hard on his thumb is probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it definitely is one of the most enjoyable.
“Fuck! Fuck, Lia!”
He lets go of the hair he was still gripping, and stalks around the room, spewing curse word after curse word.
I wait, crossing my arms, trying to act braver than I feel. Well, he had it coming, didn’t he? Strangling me half to death, chaining me up, spanking me?
I guess I didn’t hate it. I liked being chained up. I liked being strangled. I wanted to be helpless. I needed to know that it wasn’t my fault.
Then he rests his head against the wall, not saying anything, and after a while, I start getting antsy. What the hell? I didn’t bite him that hard… did I?
I don’t know why I’m the one who ends up breaking the silence. Or why I break it in the way I do.
“Are you going to… uhm… punish me now?”
He chuckles against the wall, a bitter sort of sound, before turning slowly around. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Little pain slut?”
Asshole! “I was just… wondering.”
“No, Lia. I don’t punish when I’m angry.”
“Oh.” Weird. “Why not?”
“Because I need to be able to stop. You need to be able to use a safe word, and I need to be able to stop.”
“A safe word?” I arch an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment to me.”
Shaking his head, he tosses me his leather jacket, and I hurriedly wriggle into it, thankful to not be naked anymore. Then he grabs my wrist and pulls me up. “Let’s go to the car.”
“Logan!”
He’s back to dragging me, and I scramble after him, trying not to land on my ass again, because I do not want more carpet burn.
“Logan! Wait! Why are you angry?”
“Why do you fucking think?”
“Because I bit you?” I gasp with the effort of forcing out the words that any sane person would avoid under these circumstances. “You’re angry about a tiny little bite? Did I hurt you, Logan? Hmm?”
I try to put as much of a taunting quality in my voice as he had in his, but the minute he turns around, facing me, I regret it.
“Uhm… fuck. Sorry. Never… never mind.”
I take a few steps backward, tripping over one of the glass bottles that litter the ground. I nearly fall on my ass again, but he grabs at the front of my jacket, and keeps me suspended in mid-air.
“That can’t be… that can’t be good for the jacket, Logan,” I stammer, struggling to get out of his hold. “You should probably… let me… let me up…”
Don’t show him you’re scared. Don’t show him you’re scared!
It’s not just him, but my fear of heights that has me shaking. I know I’m not very far up from the ground, but something about being suspended over even a few feet of nothingness, arched backward in this unnatural position, makes me queasy.
Of course, it doesn’t help that there’s a homicidal-looking guy gripping the front of my jacket.
He stares at me for a long time, slowly bending toward me, his eyes full of dangerous heat. There’s a long pause, punctuated only by my own labored breathing.
Then he whispers, “Yes, Lia. Yes, you hurt me.”