“Sometimes.”
“Walk backward,” he said, and I stepped back toward him until he told me to stop. His large hands bracketed my waist then slid down over my hips, around the top of my ass and down to the backs of my thighs. He pressed at the ones that hurt and ignored the ones that didn’t, and it was another mystery to add to the list of questions I had about how Marshall Covington knew me so fucking well.
Fortunately—or not—the attention on my marks made my cock painfully erect, and when he attached the cuffs around my wrists, precum leaked from my slit. He kissed my wrists again, the same way as before, the same gentle reverence before tightening down the straps, and then he spun me to face him, bringing my erection to eye level.
“It’s a wonder how much your body loves this.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t even sure I had words left, anyway.
“Let’s add some bruises to your knees, shall we?” he asked next, even though it was hardly a question at that point.
I went back to my knees between his legs, ignoring the way saliva pooled in my mouth while he undid his fly and pulled out his cock. He rubbed it against my face, dragging his slick crown across my chin and my cheek before taking it away. My instinct was to chase after him when he scooted up the bed toward the headboard, spreading himself out against the wall like the king I imagined him to be.
“Crawl up here,” he demanded, and I was grateful the bed was low to the floor, but I would have figured it out even if it was ten feet tall.
With my wrists bound behind my back, I hobbled onto the bed and knee-walked toward him at the top. He looped his thumb and first finger around the base of his dick and pointed it toward me.
“Come suck it, sweetheart,” he said.
I dove between his legs, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could on the first swallow. Marshall groaned, cursing quietly, then followed his exhale up with a hushed murmur of my name. He threaded the fingers of his free hand into my hair, guiding me down to take more of his clean and hard length into my mouth.
He wanted me to cry, and he wanted me to make a mess, so I used his erection to choke myself. The muscles of my throat flexed around the tip of his dick and his hips lifted off the bed, pushing him deeper. I gagged and sputtered around him, sinking farther around his length because I didn’t have the support of my arms to hold me up.
My dick was already leaking smears of precum across his sheets. I bobbed up and down his length, squinting hard when he fucked up against the roof of my mouth. Tears spilled out from the corners of my eyes, sliding down my cheeks and into my mouth, and Marshall made a very pleased sound as he pushed deeper into my throat.
The trim hairs around the base of his shaft tickled my noseas I took the whole of him into my mouth, and I choked around him, needing more air but not finding it. His hand was still steady against the back of my head, applying only enough pressure to make sure I didn’t stop sucking him.
“Two out of three,” he murmured, hips chasing a frenetic pattern against my face. “Don’t swallow, Silas. I want to taste it all together. Do you understand?”
I managed a nod, and then he was done.
Cum shot against the roof of my mouth, the back of my tongue. It was impossible to not swallow, with spit and cum spilling out of the corners of my mouth as he continued to fill me with his spend.
“Good boy. Good boy.” He stroked my hair back from my face, his entire body trembling beneath me. “Just like that. Now show me how you make yourself come.”
I should have been embarrassed.
Restrained with my arms behind me, my face covered with spit and tears, cum leaking out of my mouth. My own cock was so hard it could have hammered nails, and sealing my lips around the base of Marshall’s shaft to keep his cum and his dick in my mouth only made me harder.
Getting myself off was going to be easy.
I spread my legs, grinding down into the previously pristine bedding. The plush comforter wrapped around my cock like a soft hand, and my brain immediately wanted to know what it would be like for Marshall to stroke my cock with his leather gloves he’d worn on Friday. I pumped my hips harder, groaning at the weight of his cock in my mouth, still hard against my tongue.
My orgasm came on slowly, a dangerous and steady climb from the tips of my toes to the base of my spine. At some point, my pleasure twisted and knotted, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My hips moved faster, rougher, and then it was over. I spilled my load onto the sheets with a pathetic gurgle.Cum still sprayed out of my cock when Marshall grabbed me by the throat and hauled me up onto his lap. My still spurting dick rubbed against the wool of his slacks, and he used his hold around my neck to bring our mouths within kissing distance.
Then he stopped.
“I just realized I haven’t kissed you yet,” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine.
Hadn’t he?
I was certain Marshall had taken every part of my body inside and out already.
Certain of it.
“I don’t want it to be like this, though…” he trailed off, pressing his thumb against the underside of my chin. I was a quivering mess from the orgasm, cum still leaking from my cock, hands still bound behind my back, naked against all of Marshall’s clothes. He regarded me up close, breath mingled and lips so close to the connection he’d already promised me. “Open, Silas.”
I dropped my mouth open, sticking my tongue out enough for him to see his cum pooled on top. He closed the space, but instead ofkissingme, he took my tongue into his mouth, sucked it like it was a dick until I couldn’t taste him anymore. He reached deeper, licking up the inside of my cheek, the backs of my teeth. He was, if nothing else, a man of his word. This was a tasting, not a kiss. And I found myself left wanting when he pulled away.
