31. ABRAHAM
AbrAHAM
ON HER KNEES, her greedy eyes locked in on my dick, Nineah slid her fingers through her dripping slit until they were covered in her juice.
The hickeys I’d given her darkening on her throat and tit, her curly hair wild, she looked incongruously innocent for a woman who’d just bet me two minutes of throat in exchange for my chain.
The irony not lost on me that she’d been the one to gift it to me or that she was already indisputably the best mouth I’d ever fucked, I entered a wager I couldn’t lose.
Reaching inside my shorts, she wrapped her hand around my shit and pulled me out. Her sticky fingers sliding up the shaft, she gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m ready.”
I bet she was. Freaky little bitch.
Tapping the side of my watch, I started the timer and the most gorgeous slut I’d ever touched, took me all the way to the back of her throat until I hit the soft palate.
I grunted.
Both of her small hands wrapping tight around the base, Nineah swallowed around the head, moaning as vibrations lit up my fucking spine.
Jesus.
Distracted by the jiggle of her perfect tits that were rounded at the bottom and curved toward the sensitive brown tips, I locked my hands behind my head so I didn’t grab her hair.
Rolling her eyes back at the same time she rolled her tongue, her full lips streaking lip gloss up and down my dick as she sucked, she pulled back and pressed it against the slit.
“Stop playing with it and take it,” I demanded.
She narrowed her at eyes at me, but her deeply rooted need for praise must’ve overridden her attitude because she inhaled through her nose and drew me in as far as I could go. Gagging slightly, her eyes watering, she determinedly drew in two more deep breaths and took me in some more.
Losing the battle with my discipline, I threaded my hands in her curls.
Nineah braced her hands on my thighs, spreading hers, her back arching and hallowing as she curled her pink painted toes. She moved up and down, swallowing each time I hit the back of her throat like she was working the nut out of my balls.
“Putain de merde,” I swore under my breath.
She worked hard. Sucking. Shaking. Whimpering like she was the one about to come. Then Nineah had the nerve to choke at the same time I shifted my hips. My little cocksucking bitch had no time to move out of the way. Grabbing her hair so hard it was a miracle I didn’t pull it out, I came. Hard.
She hummed like a fucking kitten, rubbing her wet thighs together and her throat moved as she sucked my orgasm down.
When she pulled away—with twenty five seconds to spare at that—I expected a wild smugness in those eyes, but my wife released me from her mouth looking as strung out and transparent as I felt.
Tits heaving with her heavy breaths, her eyes blazing with a neediness that extended past lust, she sat back on her heels, slightly off-kilter.
It took me a moment to realize what she was waiting on.
“Come here,” I commanded.
Nineah crawled forward, then shifting her thong aside with my fingers, I lifted her straight onto my still-hard dick. My shit pulsed at the overstimulation but I ignored it, enjoying the flutter of her long lashes as she stretched around me, pussy spasming and soaking wet.
“D-did I win?” she rasped.
Wearing my love bites, a few stray curls stuck to her face, she was dangerously sexy.
I grasped both sides of her saliva-slicked cheeks with my fingers, squeezing firmly to drive the message home. “Don’t ever in your fucking life let a man con his way into your mouth again, do you hear me?”
Her stunned eyes filled with surprise.
“Your neglected inner-child tells you to beg for scraps because she was groomed by every shitty adult she knew, but I suggest you kill her off because you will not like me if I have to do it for you,” I told her.
“You aren’t a pretty girl with a tolerable personage, you are a once-in-a-fucking-lifetime woman and if you ever whore your mouth out for validation again, what I do to your ass will make us enemies. Do I make myself clear?”
She bit her lip nervously.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Releasing her, I reached behind me to unclasp the twenty-six-inch, five-millimeter Cuban-link gold chain I’d worn every day for three and a half years and re-clasped the jewelry around her bare throat. It sat lower on her than me, right between her firm breasts.
As if she hadn’t heard a damn word I’d said, my wife beamed at her trophy.
I grabbed her hips, lifting mine to hit that spot at the front of her walls that made her scream and sickly enjoyed the fresh gush of juice that slid down my balls.
Then because she should’ve asked for more than a stupid chain, I gave her something I knew she’d like—information.
“You’re the only woman who’s ever been able to give me head.”
Nineah’s eyes widened.
“Real head, I mean,” I admitted. “Most either pretended by sucking on the tip and the ones that actually tried weren’t good.” Not that I could blame them, but still.
“Most,” she repeated, frowning. “As in multiples of like fives?”
“Nineah, I was getting my dick sucked before you would’ve known anything about men. Your jealousy is pointless.”
“And yours isn’t?” she asked, breathless. She shifted around on my dick, trying and failing to find a comfortable position that wasn’t pressing down on her g-spot.
“That’s different.”
It wasn’t. Save for the fact that her insecurities probably wouldn’t get anyone killed.
“How?”
I grabbed her ass and began to move her. “Every woman I was with was a selfish, unattached user because I was, too. They were also either my rank or age with a low tolerance for bullshit. I didn’t manipulate green E2s out of their cherries and I definitely didn’t do it with a wife at home.”
Nineah stiffened and I realized my mistake too late.
“Jayson was married?”
“You already knew that… eventually.”
Confusion transitioned to disgust. Disgust morphed into contempt. She scoffed. “That fucking… Oh wow… What the fuck… is wrong… with men!?” Taking her irritation out on my dick, she bounced on me in between words. “Are you married?”
For twenty more days.
“Yes.”
“Ugh! You know… what I… meant!” she grunted.
I hid a smile. “No side chicks, no baby mamas, no clandestine fucks. Unless you count the times you roleplay as my affair pussy.”
I shouldn’t have been teasing her like this.
Slow releasing intel on our marriage like it was break room gossip.
But I knew this woman’s hunger fed on facts and I was addicted to feeding her.
Grabbing the back of her neck so I could pull her mouth to mine, I kissed my bride like there was an expiration date on that title because there was, and reveled in those sexy little moans.
Her pussy gripped me so tight, it was criminal.
Nineah broke away, but didn’t stop riding me. “What’s the backstory?”
I was so close to going off inside her, I nearly forgot what the fuck she was talking about.
“Your name is Camille. You hate your husband because he’s a porn addicted loser who thinks conspiracy theories make him smart but rather than yell at him to get a job, you prefer to squirt on my dick for rent money. ”
She flashed me a smile as my chain bounced as violently as her tits, smacking her in the face. “I like you.”
“Yes you do, Ange.”
Lifting her by her waist, turning her around, I pulled her back onto my dick.
Threading my arms under hers, and around her ankles, I positioned both palms on the back of her head, holding her stretched open and immobile as I pounded her tight, swollen pussy.
Nineah made distressed noises that were sexier than even her girly whimpers, and squeezed around me every time I slammed her back down.
Her juicy flesh squelched like wet boots, sucking me deeper each thrust. When she was close to coming, I stopped moving and her broken cry of disapproval was a direct line to my blood stream.
“You like that shit, baby? Cucking made-up deadbeats?”
She whined in shame like it didn’t make her juicier than a summer fruit.
“What’d I tell you about answering my questions?”
“You’re mocking me,” she said.
“If I wanted to mock you I’d talk about your fat little pussy and how none of your panties fit. Or how you paint your toes hoping someone will want to put them in their mouth you fucking freak.”
I felt the pulse of her heartbeat through her cunt as she squirmed.
“Stop trying to fuck yourself or I’ll pull out.”
“No!” she screamed. “Nooo!”
Raising her up until I was almost all the way out of her, I slid back home and my pretty bitch shook.
“I’ll give you a choice, wife. You can come right now. Or I’ll tell you something I never have in the five years I’ve known you.”
Shaking like a fucking addict, covering me in pussy juice, she hesitated longer than I thought she would. Then predictable as fuck, Nineah gave me her answer in a quiet, throaty voice. “Tell me.”
I licked the diamond stud in her ear and laid out my truth because I truly had nothing left to lose.
“My kink is a fetish. And that fetish is owning you. It’s sitting across from you in a conference room full of people, knowing I dressed you that morning.
Fed you from my spoon. Bathed you in my shower.
I get off on watching you fall in love with me because in a just world you’d have had devoted parents who raised you better than to see a savior in the first man willing to listen to you.
But this isn’t a just world and you’re either unwilling or unable to look for better, so for the short while that I get to have one of God’s angels, I’m not going to keep her in a glass case.
I’m going to brutalize and corrupt her so thoroughly, the only place she’ll be welcome after that is with me. ”