Scarred (Never After #2)(85)
“It makes me crazy, Sara.” His grip turns bruising, and then he’s ripping my red nightgown from my body until I’m naked and bared before him, goose bumps spreading along my skin. “I can’t stand it.”
My hand runs down the front of his chest, my heart pounding with sudden desperation to prove to him that no one else has me, that I only belong to him. His nostrils flare as he glares at me, the rings of his fingers glinting as I drop to my knees, reaching out to undo his slacks, my mouth watering at the thought of having his thickness in my hand and on my tongue.
“I’m yours, Tristan.” I rub my palm up the length of his growing erection, excitement skipping through my chest when it hardens beneath my touch.
He fists my hair, the way I know he loves to do, his other hand reaching under my jaw and tipping up my chin until I’m staring him in the eyes.
“Take it out,” he growls.
My center throbs and I slip my hand beneath the waistline of his slacks, underneath his underwear, until I grip his shaft, feeling it hot and hard as a rock in my palm. I run my fingers along him, and he sucks in a deep breath, gripping the strands tight as I pull him from his pants. My stomach tenses as it bobs in front of me, and I lean forward, opening my mouth to devour him whole.
His grasp tightens on my hair and he pulls me back, his hand coming down to grip his own cock, stroking it from the root to the tip.
“You love being on your knees for me, don’t you?” he asks, moving in sure motions up and down the length of himself. I nod, licking my lips as I watch his balls tense and release while he manipulates his flesh. He brings the head of it down and slaps it against the top of my breasts, leaving behind a string of arousal from the tip of his cock onto the top of my chest. The act itself is so dirty that it makes my cunt drip down my legs, desperate to have him fill it.
He rubs the tip in the small puddle he left behind before dragging it up to my neck, repositioning it so it rests on my lips. I can’t help but peek my tongue out and lick up his essence, moaning when the salty flavor hits my tastebuds.
“Open your mouth.” His fingers flex in my hair, drawing my head back more.
I obey. Not because I’m weak, and not because I have no choice; but because surrendering to him makes me happy. Powerful. It’s intoxicating, owning the passion of a man like Tristan, and so I’ll worship him like a god because I know he does the same with me.
I’m his equal.
And right now, I’m his whore.
He slides his cock inside of the open hole of my warm, waiting mouth, hissing as I leave it wide so he can see every inch as it slides inside. My insides flutter and my core tenses, wanting to watch from my knees as he comes apart down my throat.
I’m ravenous for it.
I don’t think I’ll survive if I can’t have it.
His hips thrust forward, the tattoos on his forearms coming alive while his muscles tense. The vein on the underside of his shaft throbs as he slides it along my tongue, and I have to stop myself from closing my lips around him—from sucking him as deep as I can take.
Instead, I wait for him to give me direction; knowing he’ll take what he needs.
His fingers tighten their grip, creating a delicious sting that strikes through my middle and pulses between my legs.
“Suck.”
It’s one word, but the second he says what to do I’m there, running my tongue around his silky shaft, feeling him throb as I hollow out my cheeks, wanting to milk his dick until cum bursts in my mouth.
He groans, his other hand flying up to meet his first on the back of my head, and he thrusts in and out. His eyes are half-lidded but they never leave mine, and I swear I’m close to coming apart without even being touched, just from watching him fuck my mouth.
I’ve done this act before, but it’s never felt like this.
“Look at you,” he whispers, his fingers caressing down my face until they grip the base of my chin. “So pretty on your knees while I choke you with my cock.”
He surges forward as he says the word and hits the back of my throat. I do choke, only a little, but the discomfort ratchets my arousal higher, making my cunt squeeze against air, wishing it was wrapping around the length of him and feeling him paint my insides.
“You love it, don’t you, filthy girl? I bet if I put my fingers in your pussy, it would drench my hand with how sopping and eager it is to take me.” He thrusts again, and this time, I suck harder, swirling my tongue around the throbbing vein that runs on the underside of his sensitive length. Groaning, he pulls his hips out until his heavy erection bobs in the air, tensing and growing right in front of me.
He closes his eyes, breathing deep.
And then he grips himself with his hand and smacks me with it. It’s nothing more than a light tap, but the act itself sends shock waves of tension rippling through my middle, and I lose control of my limbs, my fingers sliding down into my begging cunt, finding it sopping and wet, just the way he said it would be.
His eyes flare as he watches, his fingers stroking up and down his spit-soaked shaft and he groans as I finger myself, my insides coiling tight until I’m on the edge of an explosion.
“That’s it, my little liar, fuck yourself on your fingers and imagine it’s my cock.” He bends down. “Spread your thighs and show me how bad you want it.”
I’m not sure if it’s his words, the sound of his voice, or the fact it’s just him telling me to do something, but when I do as he says, my body seizes up tight, pleasure skittering through my insides as my walls contract so intensely that it hurts. My vision blacks out and I fall forward on my knees, bliss exploding inside of me and coating my every nerve.