I hummed my agreement around his flesh, reaching down to fish out his balls as well. I was so hungry for him, for all of him, but as his fingers combed through my hair, and the fire warmed my back, a contented peace came over me. There was something about Damon that made me feel a cozy fire glow inside.
I relaxed my throat to take him deeper, bobbing a little to help it go down.
“That’s right, take it all,” he murmured, his hand tightening in my hair. “I want to watch you crying when you choke on it.” He pushed me down further, just to make good on his word, and I fought to accommodate him. He eased off the pressure to let me pull up, coughing. “Look at me.”
I lifted my tear-damp eyes to his, and he smiled in pleasure.
“Now, listen,” he said softly, “I want you to get it out of your head that you owe me anything for being here with you. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, and his cock, resting thick and spit-soaked against my cheek, gave a little jump.
“Good. Although that’s not to say I don’t like the idea of face-fucking you from now until the new year.”
I snorted, and then coughed again. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Wrong thing to say. Or actually, very right thing to say, I amended mentally, as Damon stuffed himself back into my mouth and took a hard grip on my hair.
I loved having his dick in my mouth. Loved it, better than having my own sucked, and even—maybe—better than when he fucked me. It was because my subby little heart could concentrate on him. When he was balls-deep in my ass, I didn’t have much time to think, to savor. He was too expert at it; he dicked me down with precision, lighting me up from the inside out.
When he fucked me, I was a babbling, leaking mess.
But when I sucked him, I could relish the taste, the faintly alkaline cloud on my tongue as I teased the pre-cum out of him. I could roll him around in my mouth and enjoy the feel of his silky flesh, the satin-smoothness interrupted here and there with ridges and veins. I could look up at his face and watch his enjoyment, watch him watching me on my knees for him, worshipping his cock, doing everything I could to make him moan.
I could sink into my submissive side and indulge it.
“You were made for this,” he murmured to me. “Weren’t you? Made for sucking my dick.”
A shudder ran through me. Made for sucking his dick. Yes.
My head felt light. Floaty. Maybe it was the stress of everything, but I was traveling into subspace fast, that place where everything narrowed. The world shrank to the way his cock hit the back of my throat, the way he pushed me down inexorably, so either I choked or I took it.
I took it.
My throat relaxed for him, letting him in deeper. His hand on the back of my head pressed down again, past my usual limit, but today I let him in.
“Yeah, that’s good,” I heard him saying, breathing hard as he rocked against me. “But tighten up those lips, Blakely. You know how I like it.”
I fought back my gag reflex as Damon shifted, thrust up, and made good on his face-fucking promise. He stroked deep and slow, rubbing my nose into his bush each time, and I took him as well as I could, given the angle, keeping my lips sealed around his shaft with each thrust. My knees were already sore against the hard floor, despite the rug, my thighs straining as I fought to keep my balance. My jaw throbbed with a dull ache but I kept steady, stroking at his nuts. They were pulling up, his cock thickening in my throat as he fucked into me.
“Just like that,” he gasped. “Yeah, take it—” His hips stuttered, his cockhead bruising the back of my throat as he grunted and stilled, and I finally got my reward. He filled me up with spurt after spurt of his thick, delicious cream, keeping my face pressed down on him as his breath slowed and evened out. “You’re such a good little cocksucker,” he said at last, his voice slurred, delighted, resonant. “Swallow it all down.”
I did, despite his twinges and hisses as my mouth worked on his still-tender, still-thick cock. When I pulled off at last, my mouth wet and open, he was watching me with half-lidded eyes. “Stand up,” he murmured.
I stood.
He reached out a lazy hand and batted at my hard dick as it bobbed around, making me clench my teeth. “I suppose we’d better take care of this, hm?”
“If you think so, si—ohh.” I cut off with a breathy moan as he wrapped his hand around my cock and pulled me closer.
“You like that?” He tugged me with slow, long strokes. “Or this?” His hand sped up, fast and short, until I had to grab his shoulders for support.
“Like that,” I gasped out, and he stopped at once.
“Show me. Show me how you like to get yourself off.” He took my hips, repositioning me with a critical eye. “Jack off and shoot all over my cock, Blakely. After that, you can suck me clean again.”
I reached for my dick automatically. “But your jeans,” I began.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I told you what would happen if you messed them up. So you better aim well, hadn’t you?”
