Another of those rough, menacing sounds rumbles out of him as his powerful thighs tense on either side of me and his belly goes concave. With a sample of his unique flavor slamming into my taste buds, I swallow him down.
Goddamn.
He’s a fucking experience.
On a greedy moan, I draw back, releasing him with an indulgentpop. Losing myself in him, in the pleasure of him, I lick him like a lollipop, tracing the highway of veins interconnecting over his skin. His body bucks, rocking the bed as his hips jack toward the ceiling in an unspoken but deafening demand to stop teasing him. To put his dick back inside me.
Look at him trying to top from the bottom. As if those chains and cuffs aren’t enough clues that I’m in control.
Wrapping my hands around his dick again, I stroke, tightening my hold, instinctively knowing he wants a hard, damn-near-punishing grip. And as he releases a harsh hiss from between flattened lips, his hips rocking into my touch, I see I’m right.
It’s almost… freeing.
I can be as nasty, as ugly, as cruel as I want—as I need to be with him.
Not only will Malachi not condemn me for it, he welcomes it. He craves it as much as I do.
Besides… dead men can’t judge.
“Tell me to stop, Huntsman,” I murmur. “If this is all you want, we can quit now. What do you need from me?”
He raises his head, and a snarl lifts the corner of his mouth. “If you stop, I’ll find a way out of these chains and choke you with them. Put your mouth back on me.”
“Alrighty, then.”
I smirk, then gather spit in my mouth and release it onto the tip of his dick, watching it slide down over the flared rim. Catching the drops with my fingers, I use them as natural lubricant, pumping him faster, firmer. On the next downstroke, I part my lips over him, taking his brutish flesh inside, hollowing my cheeks and sucking him deeper. Bobbing my head over him, I work to take more and more of this beautiful cock. Even with my considerable talents, I can’t deep throat all of him, but fuck that, I can enjoy conquering as much as possible.
A deep grunt and full-body shudder are my rewards. I moan, slowly easing back, stroking my tongue along the underside of his flesh.More of that, please.
With one hand still working his dick, I dip my head, returning to his balls, and suck one inside my mouth, rolling my tongue over it. That musky flavor explodes over my senses, and I not only savor it, Ibreatheit. Switching to the other testicle, I hum in anticipation and swallow him, teasing, savoring. There’s no part of him I want to leave untouched. I need to claim himeverywhere.
A faint tremor shakes his thighs, and I place a gentle kiss high on the inside before sliding back down his length like a firefighter on a pole headed out on a call. The bulbous head bumps my throat, but instead of retreating, I hold still, allowing him to slip inside. A primitive growl echoes from above me, like the warningtimbre of a predator. The hairs on the back of my perspiration-dampened neck and arms stand up at the sound. Not out of alarm or fear. Never that.
Out of excitement.
Anticipation.
It’s almost enough to make me free him of the shackles to find out exactly how he would follow through on that rumbling, menacing threat.
Almost.
Craving that sound again, I relax my throat more, push air through my nose, and he slips deeper.
Moisture stings my eyes, and I don’t care. I’m not moving. Because there went that rumble again. My reward.
I set a punishing pace, going hard, pushing him farther and farther into the channel of my throat with each thrust over my tongue. His big body shakes beneath me, his hips jerking, straining toward me. Demanding I let him fuck my mouth. But this is my show. My punishment. My torture.
Giving him a growl of my own, I pull him back inside me, hunger leading the way and throwing skill out of the window. I release him, fumbling, searching for the knife on the mattress. As my fingers close around it, I press him into my throat, farther than he’s been so far, gagging myself. Tears burn my eyes, and my nose stings, runs, but I don’t back down.
I cut a careful, shallow slice just below my lips.
A thunderous roar echoes in the room. His back tightly arches off the bed as violent tremors ripple through his body.
I cut him again, at the base of his dick.
Cum strikes the back of my throat, hot and thick and as salty as his blood. I pull back only slightly, to drag in a breath, but don’t miss a drop of his seed. Fuck, he’s delicious. And still hard as I drink him down, then lap at the sluggishly seeping slit at the crown of his dick. I continue to pump his flesh, and when I finally release him, crimson smears my palm. Meeting his gaze over his rapidly rising and falling chest, I lick my skin free of his blood.
“You’re welcome, Huntsman. I usually don’t dole out happy endings to my would-be assassins. But I’m glad I made an exception in your case.”
