Chapter 15 Reverie #2
I squeeze my eyes shut, and several tears run down my cheeks as I hold it for another few seconds. He whimpers, his knees still wavering. Then, I look up at him as I retreat, slowly and steadily revealing every inch of him while staring directly into his eyes.
A deep crease forms between his brows, and his fist flies to his mouth, biting it with a pained moan as he watches me.
I gasp the second he’s cleared from my mouth, inhaling desperately needed oxygen. A long trail of saliva connects from his tip to my mouth, and with a heavy stare, I lick my lips, as if I finished the most delicious dessert I’ve ever had.
He turns his head away with a curse, almost as if he can’t stand to look at me. I know he can’t because he’s on the verge of coming.
So, I swallow him again, hollowing my cheeks and bobbing my head up and down.
“Baby—” He cuts himself off when his gaze meets mine, appearing torn between stopping me and letting me continue.
He pants heavily, his abdomen twitching and clenching, he moves his head every which way—up, down, to the side—having no idea what to do with himself. All the while, he continues to moan, whimper, and mutter curses beneath his breath.
My vision is blurred and my jaw aches, but I don’t relent.
I tell myself it’s nothing more than a calculated action to knock him down a peg or two, yet my pussy throbs and eager moans slip from my throat without permission.
I don’t know the exact moment I lose myself to pleasuring him, only that I do, and I don’t want to stop anymore.
It’s not a chore or a grueling task, but something that brings me a deep sense of satisfaction and joy.
With a gleeful, excited moan, I wrap my hand around the base and feed him back into my mouth, twisting my wrist, sucking and licking as I do. I make it ten seconds before he’s ripping himself away from me with a growl.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rev,” he spits, fisting my hair tightly. The look in his eyes is intense, and I’m not entirely sure if he wants to shove his dick back down my throat or slap me with it.
Either way, he definitely wants to wield himself in an aggressive manner I wouldn’t entirely be opposed to anymore.
So, with a whine, I go back for more, but he holds tight, retreating further and evading me. Another distressed sound leaves my lips.
Then, he backs away completely and points a finger at me, appearing almost angry. “You’re fucking done.”
I go to argue, but with one last look of warning, he disappears behind me to straddle the bench, though he doesn’t sit.
My mouth opens, prepared to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but I have my answer the moment his palm presses between my shoulder blades and pushes me forward, forcing my chest against the wood.
I grab the sides of the bench to steady myself, and in one, seamless move, he lifts my hips until only the tips of my toes reach the floor and then drives inside me.
“Dread!” I screech, his name coming out high-pitched and strangled as my eyes blow wide, completely unprepared for the sudden invasion.
He moans loudly in response, and if I wasn’t currently being impaled with what feels like a fucking flagpole, I’d probably appreciate that sound a lot more.
Oh my God.
I knew he was big, but feeling it in my mouth is almost laughable compared to my pussy.
The burn from how wide he stretches me is all-consuming for several moments. I’m trying to locate my lungs so I can tell them to start operating again when he retreats to the tip, then drives back in.
My forehead drops to the bench with a thunk, because somehow, he’s only gotten deeper, and I think I’m dying.
“I hate you, ohmygod, I hate you so much,” I whimper, the words flooding from my mouth.
His chuckle is dark, and it’s no surprise he doesn’t possess even a needle tip of compassion or remorse in his evil black heart.
“You haven’t even taken all of me yet,” he tsks.
Because why would anything in my life go right?
I lift my head, my face twisting into a pained expression. “Can you just… can you just give me a minute?” I snap breathlessly.
He gently rocks his hips, doing the exact opposite and slowly feeding more of himself inside me. The burn has eased, but with each centimeter he gains, I feel more and more uncomfortably full.
Fucking Christ, I think I’m going to need an epidural if he goes any deeper.
“Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful your cunt looks right now,” he rasps.
Any humor has disappeared from his voice, replaced with awe, and I loathe how effective it is in tightening my stomach with pleasure.
“Every time I pull back, you grip me so fucking tight, like you can't stand to let me go and need to come with me.”
Yeah, I definitely feel like he’s trying to take my fucking insides with him, too.
Panting, I peek over my shoulder, but I regret it immediately. His chin is tipped down with his mouth dropped open, his thick brows deeply furrowed, and his black hair falling over his forehead as he works himself deeper and deeper.
I’ve never seen him look anything other than angry, cold, or amused.
So, seeing ecstasy contort his features like this is fucking violent to my system, and knowing that it’s something I’m doing to him…
I can’t even begin to process why that makes me feel good.
Truthfully, I don’t think I want to, anyway.
“Yeah, there you go, baby. That’s it,” he groans, his muscled chest heaving and his sculpted abdomen rippling as he fucks me in short thrusts. “You’re taking it so good—fuck, yes, look how pretty you stretch for me. Such a good girl.”
His rambling is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, and the discomfort that was so unbearable just moments before now feels indiscernible to the pleasure. They’ve become a single sensation, and together, they feed on the whimpers and mumbled words pouring from his lips.
My mouth hangs open, sharp, breathy sighs spilling past them with ease.
With one final push, he seats himself completely inside me, and my eyes cross from the intensity.
For a moment, he feels so deep, I swear I feel him coming up my throat.
An impossible feat, but I’m confident Dread would be the one to accomplish it.
“That’s it,” he breathes, his tone morphing into something deeper and darker. “I knew you could take it. Your cunt is fucking stuffed. So fucking proud of you.”
A demonic growl reaches my ears, and then his palm on my ass with a sharp clap.
I yelp, jolting from the fire blooming across my backside, but holy fuck, it sends an intense shot of delight throughout my system.
I bite back a smile as he firmly massages the spot, easing the burn, while whispering a few unintelligible words beneath his breath.
Then, his other hand joins on the opposite side before they both squeeze my ass in a bruising grip.
I’m only capable of a pained mewl as he roughly spreads my cheeks, draws out of me, and slams completely back inside me.
Sparks of bliss ignite right where the tip of his cock hits. My throat strangles the moan before it can make it through, producing nothing more than a choked sound.
I think he just hit my goddamn cervix, and it’s fucking criminal how incredible it felt.
It’s only when he retreats that I can breathe again, but I’m given just enough time to eke out a, “Yes,” before he’s filling me again.
He allows me no more time to adjust, immediately setting a steady but harsh pace.
Over and over, he plunges inside me, using his bruising grip on my ass to slam me back into him with every thrust. Each time, a delicious moan flies past his lips, only making me impossibly wetter.
It’s all too much—too overwhelming—yet so unbelievably addicting, I never want it to end.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” I mumble, chanting the words between sharp cries. The only other thing I can do is hold on, my nails digging into the bench with desperation.
“Fuck, Rev,” he groans, one hand releasing my ass to slap it harshly again.
The pain feels fucking glorious combined with the ecstasy, sending my eyes to the back of my head.
My answering moan is nothing short of pornographic, spurring him on to do it again.
Fire lances across my ass, yet it heightens my pleasure in a way that feels so good—it makes me happy.
A broad smile splits my face, and my outcry is a mix of a scream and a laugh.
His reaction to it is physical, and it’s explosive.
His hips stutter in surprise before his muscles swell with tension, and the growl that rumbles out of his chest is menacing.
Rather than spanking me again, he reaches forward and sloppily gathers all my hair into his fist. He pulls tight, forcing my chest to lift and my back to bow.
Sharp pinpricks ignite across my scalp, only making me happier.
“You’re a fucking filthy little slut,” he snarls.
I should hate that. I should be incredibly offended and turn around and smack him. Yet, my teeth clamp down on my bottom lip, biting back a smile as I nod my head eagerly, and mewl, “Uh-huh.”
“Shit,” he curses, and for a split second, he sounds completely thunderstruck.
I said I would ruin him, and I meant it. Admittedly, though, I didn't think it would go like this.
He adapts quickly, his free hand moving to cup my breast. I don’t have time to prepare myself for the blinding sensation of his fingers finding my nipple and pinching hard.
“Fuck!” I shout, my pussy clenching around him with a force that rivals his grip on my nipple.
The heady mix of agony and pleasure has my mouth dropping open and my eyes rolling. It’s breathtaking, and it fills my chest with pure elation, producing more gleeful moans.
“Fucking Christ,” he barks, pounding into me harder. “It’s fucking pathetic how easy it is to make you come.”
As if my body wants nothing more than to prove him right, my stomach tightens, and I soar right to the edge of that cliff again.