Chapter Three
Maya:
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. There’s only the feeling of Jack’s hot, wet mouth on my breast, the obscene suction as he drinks from me, and the deep, guttural sounds of pleasure he’s making against my skin.
Each pull sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core, a sharp, aching throb of need that I’ve never experienced before.
My whole body feels like a live wire, humming with a current of pure sensation.
“Jack,” I gasp, my head falling back. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding him to me, urging him on.
I never want this to end. This feeling, this connection, is more intense than anything I’ve ever dreamed of.
My fantasies, as detailed and as frequent as they’ve been, didn’t come close to this reality.
The warmth of his breath, the scrape of his stubble against the sensitive skin of my breast, the strength of his big hands as they grip my waist...
it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.
He pulls back, his lips glistening. A thin trickle of my milk escapes the corner of his mouth, and I watch, mesmerized, as he catches it with his thumb before bringing it to his own lips to suck it clean.
The sight is so incredibly, shamefully erotic that I feel a fresh gush of wetness between my thighs, the evidence of my arousal soaking into my panties.
“So sweet, princess,” he murmurs, his blue eyes dark with a hunger that makes my stomach clench. “So fucking sweet.” He moves to my other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, and I feel a rush of liquid heat as he drinks from me again, his throat working as he swallows.
My hips begin to move of their own accord, a slow, undulating rhythm against the hard muscle of his stomach. The friction is delicious, but it’s not enough. I need more. I need... something. I don’t know what, but the ache between my legs is growing, becoming a desperate, throbbing emptiness.
As if he can read my mind, one of his hands leaves my waist and slides down my body.
His palm traces the curve of my hip, then moves inward, over my thigh.
His fingers dip beneath the hem of my dress, and my breath catches in my throat.
I expect him to touch me through my panties, to ease the ache there, but he doesn’t.
He teases me, his fingertips tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, so close to where I need him but never quite touching.
“Please,” I whisper, the word torn from my throat. I’m ashamed of the neediness in my voice, but I’m past caring. I’m burning alive, and he’s the only one who can put out the fire.
He lifts his head from my breast, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Please what, princess?”
“Touch me,” I beg, my hips shifting, trying to force his hand where I want it. “Please, Jack, touch me.”
His smile widens, a flash of white in the dim light. “Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks, his voice a low purr. His fingers inch higher, the tips of them brushing against the lace of my panties. “Here?”
I nod frantically, unable to form words.
“Tell me,” he commands, his eyes locked on mine. “I want to hear you say it.”
My cheeks flame, but the desire coursing through me is stronger than my embarrassment. “My... my pussy,” I stammer, the word feeling foreign and dirty on my tongue. “Please, touch my pussy.”
“Good girl,” he praises, and the words wash over me, making me feel beautiful and powerful and wanted. “As you wish.”
He finally moves his hand the last inch, his fingers pressing against the soaked fabric of my panties.
A strangled moan escapes my lips at the contact.
He rubs me through the lace, the friction maddeningly good.
I rock my hips against his hand, chasing the pleasure, needing more.
He obliges, applying more pressure, his fingers finding my clit and circling it slowly, deliberately.
“You’re so wet, princess,” he murmurs, his gaze fixed on my face, watching my every reaction. “Is all this for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “All for you. Only for you.”
He hooks a finger in the side of my panties and pulls them aside.
The cool air hits my heated flesh, but it’s the feeling of his bare fingers, calloused and rough, brushing against my slick folds that makes me cry out.
He explores me leisurely, tracing my entrance, sliding through my wetness, learning my body.
I’m trembling, my legs shaking, my breath coming in ragged pants.
“Such a pretty little pussy,” he says, his voice husky. “And I’m going to make it all mine. Do you know how I’m going to do that, Maya?”
I shake my head, my breath caught in my throat and making it impossible to speak.
“I’m going to taste it,” he says, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m going to eat this sweet little pussy until you cum all over my face. I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess?”
My answer is a choked sob as he guides me down onto my back, so I’m lying on the polished wood of his desk, the dress bunched around my waist. He peels off my panties, then pushes my legs wide, hooking my knees over his broad shoulders.
The position is incredibly exposing, and for a fleeting moment, I feel a surge of self-consciousness, but then he looks at me, at my most private place, and the look on his face is one of complete reverence.
He doesn’t waste any more time. He leans down, and I feel the hot, wet touch of his tongue against my clit.
I cry out, my back arching off the desk.
The pleasure is so intense, so sharp, it’s almost painful.
He laps at me, his tongue broad and flat, then pointed and probing.
He explores every fold, every crevice, tasting me, devouring me.
His hands grip my thighs, holding me open, holding me still for his onslaught.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, and I see stars.
A kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind my eyelids.
My hands fly to his head, my fingers tangling in his hair again, holding him to me.
I can hear the wet, slick sounds of his mouth on my pussy, the sounds of my own desperate whimpers and moans.
The scent of my arousal fills the air, musky and sweet, and I’m overwhelmed by the raw intimacy of it all.
He releases my clit, only to plunge his tongue inside me, fucking me with it. The feeling is incredible, but it’s not enough. I’m so empty. I need more. I need him to fill me, to stretch me, to claim my virginity.
“Please, Jack,” I sob, my hips bucking against his face. “I need... I need...”
“I know what you need, princess,” he murmurs against my slick flesh. “But not yet. First, you’re going to cum for me. I want to feel this sweet little pussy gush all over my face.”
He returns to my clit, this time using his fingers to spread my folds wide, exposing the sensitive bundle of nerves to the cool air. He blows gently on it, and I shudder, my whole body tensing. Then, he licks me, a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue that has me teetering on the edge.
He does it again, and again, each lick a slow, torturous spiral of pleasure. He’s building me up, taking me higher and higher, until I’m a trembling, writhing mess on his desk. I’m so close, so very close, my body coiled tight like a spring.
Then he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks hard, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm that rips through me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
It’s a violent, shattering wave of pleasure that steals my breath and my vision.
I scream, a hoarse, guttural cry of pure ecstasy, as my back arches off the desk, my body bowing tight.
A rush of wetness floods from me, drenching his face and the polished wood beneath me.
He doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking, keeps licking, drawing out my pleasure until I’m a limp, spent puddle, my body quivering with aftershocks.
Slowly, gently, he releases me. I lie there, boneless and panting, my mind a blissful blank. I can feel him moving, hear the rustle of clothing. I force my heavy eyelids open, and the sight that greets me makes my breath catch.
Jack is standing at the end of the desk, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
His chest is broad and muscular, dusted with dark hair that narrows to a happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his slacks.
He shrugs the shirt off, and I’m treated to the full, glorious expanse of his torso.
His arms are thick and powerful, his biceps straining as he moves.
My eyes are drawn to the wetness glistening on his face and chin. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looks proud, a smug grin playing on his lips as he watches me watching him. He takes a step closer, and I can see the prominent bulge in his pants.
“You see what you do to me, princess?” he asks, his voice a low growl. “You make me so hard, it hurts.”
He unzips his slacks and pushes them down, along with his boxers.
He springs free, and my eyes widen. He’s...
huge. Long and thick, with a prominent vein running up the underside.
The head is a deep, angry red, already leaking a pearly bead of pre-cum.
I feel a mixture of fear and anticipation coiling in my belly.
“Are you scared, princess?” he asks, a soft rumble of a laugh in his chest.
I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from his erection. “A little,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.
He pauses, looking at me for a long moment before speaking. “Have you done this before, Maya?”
I shake my head, my cheeks flushing with heat. “No,” I say. “I’ve never... done anything.” I can’t bring myself to say the word virgin, but I know he understands.
A strange look crosses his face, a mix of surprise and something else I can’t quite identify. Something dark and possessive. He steps closer, until he’s standing between my legs.
“Good,” he growls. “Then I’ll be your first. Your only.”
And the thought of being his and only his sends a thrill through me that is sharper than any fear.