Chapter 6 Jane
SIX
JANE
“Good answer,” he growls and spins me to face him. He fists my hair and yanks my head back again while the fingers of his other hand stroke down the arch of my neck. “Do you know how to deep-throat a cock, Jane?”
My insides tremble at the thought of him taking my mouth and fucking my throat. “Yes.”
“Of course you do,” he says. “Every good slut knows how to properly suck cock.”
His dark blue eyes hold my gaze captive as his hands trail down my sides and then gather my wrists together behind my back.
Slowly, he drags the zipper of my hoodie down, the backs of his knuckles burning a trail over the center line of my body, then shoves the sides off my shoulders, exposing my breasts.
My breaths are little more than tiny, excited huffs, causing my wanton chest to rise and fall, beckoning him to look, to take notice of what I’m offering up to him. Or, more accurately, what I’m allowing him to take.
Finally, he tears his eyes away from mine so they can take their fill of what he’s uncovered.
“No T-shirt, no bra,” he muses. He squeezes one breast roughly, causing me to inhale sharply. “Were you hoping that your handyman would notice, Jane? Did you want him to see your hard nipples through the cotton of your sweatshirt? Did you want him to take advantage of you?”
The way he’s kneading my breasts and pinching my nipples has me reeling, and I almost don’t manage an answer, but at last I shake my head. “No,” I say on a gasp when he tweaks one bud especially hard. “I wasn’t hoping that.”
“And how about now, Jane,” he asks gruffly.
“Now that you know I’m your handyman. A man with a hard body and even harder cock.
A man who can fuck you better than any of the limp-dick pussies in your past. A man who can show you what it’s like to be used so well your body will still be feeling me in a week. ”
I tremble. “Yes.”
“Good girl. Now, get naked so I can see what’s mine.”
What’s mine. What would it be like to have a domineering man like Chance claim me as his, even for a little while?
I’m about to find out. It seems so surreal, this whole situation.
It all happened so fast, from ordinary handyman to seductive stripper to unexpected lover.
Though, that makes it sound too tender. What he is, is a fucker, and he’s promising to be a better fuck than I’ve ever had.
He doesn’t know that my lackluster sexual experiences thus far make his statement insignificant, but I think he has the potential to be better than my future experiences, and that fact leaves me both exhilarated and mildly depressed.
He steps back to give me room, and I suppose to give himself a better vantage point from which to watch. When I don’t immediately move to follow his command, he crosses his arms and arches a brow in challenge.
This is the defining moment. If I want to change my mind, the time to do it is now, before I take the rest of my clothes off.
But even though I can still, just barely, hear the rational voice telling me to come to my senses…
I don’t want to. I want this. I want him. All I have to do is be bold enough.
“Jane.” His voice is a whip cracking in the air between us, spurring me into action.
Be bold enough, Janey. Taking a deep breath, I pull my arms from the sleeves and drop the hoodie behind me, then hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and drag them, and my yoga pants, down my legs before stepping out of them and removing my socks.
I straighten to stand in front of Chance completely nude with the exception of the trim thatch of hair on my mound.
I’m not the most confident woman—as evidenced by my steadily increasing anxiety the longer I’m not distracted by his heady touches—but I force my clenched hands to stay at my sides, and I wait.
His eyes roam heavily over my body, blazing a fiery path and making my skin feel tight and hot.
Finally, his tank finds its way to the floor, leaving his upper body gloriously bare for my eyes to do a little roaming of their own.
I assumed he’d take the rest of his clothes off, but he doesn’t, making me feel more vulnerable than if he were naked with me.
I’m transfixed as he pulls his cock out from the constriction of his briefs and begins stroking himself.
I know this is cliché, but sweet baby Jesus, the man is huge.
Thick and long and hard as granite, with throbbing veins and a dusky head leaking clear drops of pre-cum I’m suddenly desperate to taste.
“You want my cock, Jane?” Wide eyed and transfixed, I nod. He walks backward until he’s leaning against the wall with his feet spread apart, still lazily stroking himself from root to head and back again. “Then get on the floor and crawl for it, little slut.”
I hesitate. My natural reaction is to war against the derogatory term and demeaning order.
But at the same time, something inside me responds like it’s being coaxed out from the cave and Chance is the sun, offering me his warmth and light.
This might not be a conventional desire, but it is mine, and now that I’ve had a glimpse of what it’s like outside of that cave, I don’t want to go back.
Folding into myself, I get down on all fours.
The Berber carpet is hard and scratchy under my hands and knees as I crawl—an apt reminder that my comfort is of no consequence to the man making the demands.
I don’t stop until I’m directly in front of him, my face mere inches from the gargantuan rod I now crave more than my next breath.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to give it to me.
Peering up at him from beneath my lashes, I do what I suspect he wants: I beg. “Please, may I put your cock in my mouth?”
His full lips twist into a wicked grin. “Such lovely manners,” he says. “I suppose I should reward you. Scoot in close then sit back on your heels. Shoulders back so I get a good look at those perky tits. That’s it. Now, stick out your tongue.”
I watch as he fists his hard shaft and guides the bulbous head to my open mouth.
He drags the seeping tip over my flattened tongue, and the sweet taste of his pre-cum is like liquid candy.
My mouth fills with saliva, greedy to taste more of him.
Before I can rein myself in, I close my lips around him and suck for all I’m worth, trying to milk whatever his cock will give me as I tongue its tiny slit.
I hear Chance hiss in a breath and growl out, “Fuck,” before a hand fists in the back of my hair and yanks me away.
His free hand grabs my jaw hard enough to hurt, but not so hard that he’ll leave bruises.
As he leans over me, I’m forced to meet his angry gaze, and a bolt of apprehension shoots through me.
I don’t know this man. I don’t know if he has a mean streak a mile wide and a rap sheet to prove it.
What the hell am I doing? This could be my worst best decision ever, and if it turns out I’m really dancing with the devil, it could be the last decision I ever make.
“Though I’ll admit the feel of those lips sucking at my dick like a goddamn Hoover was pretty fucking amazing, that’s not what I told you to do, is it?”
I stare into his deep blue eyes and search for signs of malice or ill intent.
Signs that I should lock myself in my room and call 911.
But I don’t see anything like that. Instead, all I see are flames of desire that match mine, that are licking at both of us and pushing us to give in to the consummation of the ultimate pleasure.
“You still good, Jane?”
The tone of his question hints at the civil man who fixed my sink in exchange for a dance.
He’s checking in with me, and I’m certain that if I answer no, everything will come to a stop.
Playtime with Chance will be over, and I’ll never know what it’s like to have this kind of freedom with a lover who truly understands what I want.
Any remaining shreds of trepidation dissipate into the ether, and what’s left behind is a burning need for this man to control me, to use me…to fuck me.
An impish grin lifts the corners of my mouth, and I toss down the verbal gauntlet I hope will unleash the animal I can see straining at its tether inside him.
“Do your worst.”