She broke the kiss, our foreheads meeting. Her hand trailed over my chest, drawing bumps on my skin.
“I will hurt you,” I growled, though the sound carried more plea than warning.
She traced a path down my chest, her fingers light as breath, every touch leaving fire in its wake. Her hand drifted down my abdomen and lower, a touch too deliberate to be innocent. I knew I should stop her before she crossed a line she might regret, but I couldn’t. Her touch held me captive.
Then she leaned closer, lips brushing my throat, her breath warm against my skin. “What if I like it?”
Her voice, sly and heated, snapped me back to myself like the crack of a whip.
I rose to my feet with a hiss before the lightning grew too loud in my veins.
But she caught at my breeches, tugging once, and the motion drew me close. Her face lifted toward me, toward the bulge that threatened to tear through my breeches.
What kind of game was she playing?
She undid the knots that held my breeches together and slid them down my thighs. She paused, taking in my size through my undergarments.
Then, as if she’d gathered the courage to do so, she slid them down in turn, freeing my cock. Her doe eyes lifted to meet mine, as though she waited for a response from me.
I knew what she was about to do, and I wouldn’t stop it. Because I didn’t want to hold back anymore.
“What are you waiting for?” The words emerged low and rough. I desperately wanted her to take my length into her mouth.
“Your permission, Magister…” she whispered, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.
I exhaled sharply, a sound more like surrender than command. “Granted.”
Her fingers tight around my base, she slid them up anddown slowly, not breaking eye contact. She brought my tip so close to her lips, I ached for her mouth to wrap around me fully.
I stood still, fingers aching to catch her by the neck and push my cock through those beautiful lips. My hardness wanted nothing more than to feel her warmth.
But she wasn’t taking it, only stroking it gently, like she was teasing me, taunting me.
“It’s so big…” she murmured.
My head fell back with a grunt.
When I wasn’t looking, she pressed those lips to my tip, opened up, and slid my cock inside her mouth.
Time stopped, and for a moment, the world felt as though it had finally fallen into place.
Our eyes met again, and she held my gaze with those deep, dark brown eyes.
She was halfway when I hit the back of her throat. She moaned, mouth full, sound muffled by my flesh.
She still held my cock in one hand, her movements mirroring the rhythm of her mouth. She glided up and down with a cadence that made coherent thought impossible, her tongue occasionally stroking my tip. Pleasure built with each pass, her incredible skill evident as her mouth, warm and perfect, enveloped me completely.
Blood in my veins pulsed harder, pleasure rising like a tide, release already knocking.
My fingers laced through her hair, and I tugged hard, opening her wider. I thrust into her mouth. She wanted this, so I’d give it to her, harder than she’d wished for.
It felt as though this was all she wanted. To bridge the distance between us, to give herself over completely. Her muffled moans vibrated against my skin, showing me just how much she enjoyed pleasing me. She closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek, and something inside me broke loose. The storm rose again, fierce andrelentless.
I pushed further, rough gags breaking from her throat. She kept still, letting go, opening her throat nicely to me.
“That’s my good girl…” The words escaped, rough as a growl.
I wanted nothing but to give her my load, to release at the farthest point I could reach. I wouldn’t fight it anymore.
