I fall over her, consuming her lips with mine as I grip my cock, raising it to her warm, quivering opening. I thrust inside.
“No, wait!” She pushes at my chest. “Not yet!”
Halfway within her clenching, straining pussy, I freeze, brows furrowed in pain—in pleasure. “What’s… wrong?”
She constricts, wiggles, and slides her butt against the desk as her clenching sheath jostles me to her surface. “I want to return the favor first—” She gasps, shoving harder against my chest, quivering in the aftershock of her orgasm.
Groaning in torment, I relinquish her, preferring to thrust wildly and show her who’s in charge. “What favor?” I grimace, grabbing my throbbing cock.
Summer points at the wall. “I need you to sit there.”
I frown. “Why?”
“You’ll see. I can outdo that last gift as well.”
Snarling, I do not believe she can.
Nevertheless, I do as she says. I am her servant, after all, her needy gargoyle. Retreating to the corner I pose before, I settle on the floor, leaning against the wall, watching her every move. Gripping my swollen cock with both hands, I squeeze it,hard.I want it inside her. It needs to be inside her.
She ties her hair back, eliciting another annoyed grunt from me. I’d fuck her hair too if I could. She stares down at me. I’m at her mercy. She could ask me for anything right now.
I would do anything and everything for her.
She takes her time approaching, working this fantasticallingerie—pressed breasts bouncing, lace framing her sex.Watching me watching her, a coy smile spreads upon her lips, and she settles between my knees, her small hands cupping them.
“Summer,” I rasp. “Give me this gift soon, or I might…”
“Might what?”
“Might not be able to hold back any longer.”
“You won’t be able to resist. I promise.” Her words come out as a whisper as she settles her hands over mine, tugging them off my throbbing erection. “I’ve dreamed of this.”
A dream…it is one I cannot quite place.
She places my hands on my knees, meeting my eyes. Pinning me with them, she removes her glasses and places them aside. She blinks at me with bare blue eyes.
Leaning down, she takes hold of my erection with both hands and kisses the tip.
I go still, my wings bracing against the wall, arching with strain. Tension floods my limbs as she kisses my tip, again and again, caressing it with her soft lips. She kisses and kisses and kisses.
Almost, I turn back to stone, fearing that if I don’t, this will end and she will lift her mouth away. Pleasure streaks down my cock, tightens my testicles, and twists my stomach. My lips part when her hands slide down my shaft, fingertips exploring my ridges as her palms stroke. I swallow, digging my clawed toes into the wood floor and scratching it.
She’s touched me before, many times. I have felt her hands on my wings, my chest, and the hard lines of my face. Over the past year, she has even dusted me, ensuring every part of my large form was clean. I hated it, knowing I would never be able to do the same, all while I anticipated it, treasured it.
Now she worships me with her lips, her mouth.
And I want her to never stop.
When she drifts her lips up and down my length, planting tiny kisses throughout, I’m finally able to unlock my hands and spread my fingers through her hair. She peers up at me and our gazes lock—her jaw wide, holding me wickedly—I shudder. I feel it when she smiles, her tongue licking back and forth.
My cockfeelsher smile.
Leaning my head back, I groan, clutching her harder.
She has outdone herself. Again.
When her hands cup my testicles and her mouth swallows my head, when she presses down, swallowing me until my tip nudges the back of her throat, I lose it.
