Chapter 22 #2
She glares up at me, but her cheeks flush deeper. She yanks my pants open, shoving them down just enough to free my cock. It's already hard, throbbing in the cold alley air, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking once, hard and fast. I hiss through my teeth, hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Her mouth is on me before I can process it, hot, wet, and fucking perfect. She wraps those lips around my cock and sucks—hard—tongue swirling around the head like she's trying to drive me insane.
“Jesus—fuck—” My head slams back against the brick, eyes squeezing shut.
She takes me deeper, hollowing her cheeks, and the sound that comes out of me is barely human. My hand shoots to her hair, fingers tangling in those dark strands, and I have to force myself not to grip too tight, not to take over and fuck her mouth the way I want to.
Let her have this. Let her have control.
But fuck if it isn't killing me.
Her tongue traces the underside of my cock, following that thick vein, and my hips buck involuntarily.
She pulls back just enough to shoot me a look—half warning, half challenge—before taking me deeper.
So deep I hit the back of her throat and she doesn't even gag, just swallows around me like she was made for this.
“Ivy—” Her name comes out strangled.
She pulls off with an obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. “Shut up.”
Then she's lower, tongue dragging over my balls, sucking one into her mouth while her hand works my shaft. The dual sensation makes my knees threaten to buckle. My fingers tighten in her hair—not guiding, just holding on, trying to anchor myself to something solid while she destroys me.
She takes me back in her mouth, deeper this time, nose pressing against my pelvis. I feel her throat work around me and my vision whites out for a second. My grip in her hair tightens, and she moans around my cock, the vibration shooting straight up my spine.
“Fuck—baby, you're—” I can't finish the sentence. Can't think past the wet heat of her mouth, the way she's looking up at me through those lashes, mascara-smudged and wrecked and so fucking beautiful it hurts.
She bobs faster, hand working what doesn't fit in her mouth, and I'm fighting every instinct I have not to thrust, not to fuck her throat, not to take back control and show her exactly how good she makes me feel.
But this is hers. This moment. This power.
Even if it's killing me to give it to her.
I snap, forcing her up by her hair. She swipes at her lips, innocence flashing over her face like she didn't just make me visit Jesus six times in less than ten seconds.
Her thumbs hook into the band of her pants as they drop to the ground at her feet.
My eyes land on her. “You sure you wanna do this and risk your ass being stamped on every newspaper that gives a fuck?”
She doesn't answer, just nods her head like a fucking maniac.
Fucking hell.
Leaving her underwear on, my hands find her ass. Her legs wrap around my waist at the exact moment that she lines me up, swallowing me in one brutal thrust.
The heat of her clamps around me, wet and tight, and I groan, head thumping back against the brick. She doesn't wait, starts riding me hard, hips slamming down, grinding against me like she's trying to break something.
Her hands go to my throat, fingers wrapping around, squeezing just enough to make my pulse thud against her palms.
“Yeah, fuck,” I rasp, voice strained from the pressure. “Choke me harder, Ivy. Be a good girl and make it hurt.”
She tightens her grip, nails digging into my skin, and I feel my airway narrow, the burn building in my chest. It sends a jolt straight to my dick, buried deep inside her.
She's fucking herself on me harder now, each drop of her hips violent enough to punch the air from my lungs—or maybe that's her fingers crushing my windpipe.
Her breath comes in broken gasps against my ear, hot and wet, her tits crushing against my chest.
I could flip us. Could slam her against this wall and pound into her until she screams. But I don't. I let her think she owns this moment, let her grind that swollen clit against me like she's trying to split herself open, chasing that edge with single-minded desperation.
“Such a filthy little slut for my cock,” I say, words scraping out between her squeezes. “Look at you, choking me while you fuck yourself on it. You love this, don't you? Taking control like the desperate whore you are.”
Her eyes flash, a mix of anger and heat, and she squeezes tighter, cutting off my air for a beat. Black spots dance in my vision, but I thrust up into her once, hard, making her gasp and falter.
Laughter spills from my mouth, echoing through the alley.
She recovers, slamming down again, her walls clenching around me, slick sounds echoing off the walls.
“Fuck you,” she hisses, but her thighs tremble, her rhythm turning erratic. She's close, grinding her clit against my base with every drop.
I squeeze her ass to steady her, fingers digging in enough to bruise. “Come on, baby. Come all over me. Take it. Own it.”
She shudders, her chokehold tightening one last time as her orgasm hits, body seizing up, pulsing around me. I feel her drench me, hot and wet, and that's all it takes. I thrust up twice more, brutal and deep, spilling into her with a choked groan, her fingers still locked around my throat.
She slumps against me, hands loosening, chest heaving. I suck in air, the burn in my lungs mixing with the aftershocks twitching through my cock still inside her.
Pressing her lips against my chest, she bites. Hard. “Don't ever wake me up from a deep sleep again.”
“Ouch!” I laugh, lowering her slowly to the ground. She said it to joke, but all it does is remind me that we're on a timer, and in three days, all of this is going to be over.