Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(14)

With a jerk, he pulled my head back until my heels jammed into my ass. “I like being able to control you this way, esclave.”

His mouth descended on mine from above. The upside-down awkwardness added a new dimension to our kiss, and I opened wide to let his tongue possess me. Controlling me with my hair, Q stole my breath, making me squirm.

My hands clenched into fists on my thighs, and I wanted more than anything to touch myself and come. I couldn’t stand the ache much longer—the unbearable need to explode.

Withdrawing from the kiss, Q wrapped my hair around my neck. The tickling strands wrapped around my throat made me claustrophobic. Small pops of panic burst in my bloodstream. I didn’t think I could stand to be strangled again.

Q stalked back to stand in front of me; my eyes fell to his cock. Pre-cum smeared down the underside of his velvety skin. I licked my lips.

His belly rippled with need and he groaned, taking a step closer. Our eyes burned holes in each other and we didn’t say a word. He stood still, apart from the slight twitch of his hips, the unconscious plea to give him what I desperately wanted.

I sat higher on my knees, reaching with shaky hands to clasp his hot length. My fingers latched around him, tight and unforgiving.

His head fell back, and the moan dragged from his throat vibrated in my *. If he kept making sounds like that I’d come from the power of his voice alone.

I stroked him once and his heavy hands landed on my head, exerting a little pressure, giving me a request.

My mouth watered as I bowed my head. The hair tightened around my throat. The moment my tongue touched his cock, I knew why he’d lassoed my hair around me. My airway was already compromised. Sucking his cock diminished it even more. Breathing thorough my nose didn’t help—every breath became a struggle.

My nostrils flared in fear, but I opened wide and sucked Q’s girth deep into my mouth. He threaded his fingers into my strands, holding my head prisoner as my tongue lapped from beneath and my lips clamped tight around him.

He rocked deeper into me, pressing down on my head. “Take it. Fuck.”

My * clenched, and I could’ve cried with how much I wanted his cock deep inside me. Anger and frustration bubbled, and I dared scrape my teeth along his length, testing him, showing him how on edge I was.

He thrust harder, causing my jaw to lock and teeth to mar such delicate flesh. The thick head of his cock hit the back of my mouth and the urge to gag suffocated me. I tried to take a deep breath, but my hair didn’t allow my lungs to fill.

Desperation grew and grew until my chest ached and my heart galloped. And yet I kept sucking, kept stroking. Q was in a different dimension, petting my head, taking my mouth with his eyes tightly closed.

“Your mouth is f*cking heaven,” he grunted.

His cock rippled as I sucked harder, determined to make him truly mean what he said. I wanted him to unravel. I wanted it to be over so I could breathe again.

Anxiety made me bold. I slid one hand between his legs and cupped his balls.

He jolted. His hips stopped their searching rock. For a second, I wondered if he’d stop me. Maybe I wasn’t allowed to touch him there, but the second passed, and he relaxed again.

I squeezed the tender flesh, rolling them in my fingertips. He twitched, and his muscular thighs quivered.

Looking up, I imprinted how he looked in that moment. His eyes squeezed shut, his mouth in a grimace. He looked like an evil demigod. A living relic of sinful sex.

Opening wider, I slid him in and out, licking and laving while I cupped his balls harder. I wanted him to come. I wanted to steal the fine edge of his control and make him lose it.

I’m going to drive you wild, Q Mercer.

Growing braver, I darted my hand further between his legs. He stilled, but I didn’t give him an opportunity to decide if he liked it. With two fingers facing upward, I pressed hard on the ridge of skin between his balls and *.

He jerked as I found the thicker node of skin, the small walnut-sized erogenous zone also known as the male g-spot.

I pressed it again, sucking his cock deep into my mouth.

Q gasped and wrenched back, but I went with him. I kept my lips glued around him and my hand firmly between his legs.

I suffered black spots in my vision as my hair slowly asphyxiated me, but I kept a rhythm: suck, press, suck, press—a thrusting motion between his legs, my touch firm and unyielding.

Q let out a loud groan. “Merde. Stop!”

I didn’t stop.

I added teeth to my suction. I flexed my fingers, ignoring everything else but getting Q to lose control.

“Fuck f*ck f*ck.” It was a match to a cannon, a lost pin to a grenade. Q lost it. “Fuck me, esclave. Merde.”

His fingers gripped my head, holding me hostage as his hips thrust violently into my mouth. I never let up on the pressure between his legs, coaxing his g-spot, pinching the vein feeding his balls with blood.

“Tu vas me tuer. C’est tellement bon. Mon Dieu.” You're going to kill me. It feels too good. My God.

My mouth leaked saliva, unable to do anything but accept Q’s motion. My neck grew wet as I dribbled and my arm erupted into fire from keeping the pressure.

Q grunted like a feral animal. His throat rattled with curses, his body vibrated with aggression, and the entire room filled with the thick scent of sex.

I teetered on the brink of passing out, my body numb and weak. Q groaned from the tips of his toes. His belly stiffened, his legs froze, and his g-spot surged.