Standing up, I position myself next to her head and yank her toward me. Her head hangs over the edge, eyes wide as I press the barrel against the hollow of her throat once more. She gasps, the soft sound of surrender stoking a primal hunger in me.
“You talk too much. Let’s see how much you learned the last time I fucked your throat.”
One hand keeps the gun jammed against her throat. The other drags my zipper down, freeing my cock. She tries to twist away, lips clamped shut, but her head’s pinned to the table—trapped between the steel and my body.
I don’t want her fucking biting me.
Slowly, I slide the gun down her body. Her breath hitches as I shove it past the waistband of her underwear. She freezes until the muzzle kisses her clit, causing her hips to jerk.
“Open your mouth. You bite me, I shoot you in the cunt.”
I press the barrel lower—harder—until the metal forces her entrance open.
A strangled gasp tears from her throat.
But she doesn’t scream. Not yet.
“Good girl.” I run my cock down her jaw, then slap it on her cheek once. “Keep it open.”
She does. Barely.
I slide into her mouth, slow at first. Her lips stretch, choking around the thickness. I push deeper, her throat convulsing as I bury the full length down her throat. Her hands claw at the table’s edge.
She gags.
I pull out, and a ragged gasp of relief fills the air. But before she can catch her breath, I slam back in, bottoming out. Again and again. My hips snap in a relentless rhythm, driving my cock down her throat as she chokes and sputters.
Tears spill down her cheeks. I smear them with my thumb, pressing them into her skin. I drive the gun in her cunt, pushing deeper with every thrust, and I feel the shudder that racks her body.
She’s terrified. Angry. Desperate.
And I love it. Every fucking second of it.
My pace quickens, my hips slamming against her face with enough force to rattle the entire table. I fuck her face like I own it. Like I own her. And in this moment, I do.
She’s mine. To fuck, to ruin, to destroy.Completely.
Her muffled screams vibrate around my cock, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure down my spine. With a low groan, my grip on her hair tightens. I’m so close. So fucking close.
With a final, brutal thrust, I slam down her throat, burying myself completely. My cock swells, thick and throbbing, and I come, spilling straight down her throat with a guttural grunt.
Her body convulses beneath me, her chest heaving with silent sobs. But she can’t escape, not with my gun in her pussy and my cock filling her mouth.
Slowly, I slide out of her mouth and remove the gun. She collapses against the table, gasping, her lips swollen. My cum leaks from the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin.
She turns her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of sweat-matted hair. Her tears burn against my hand as I grip her jaw and force her to look at me.
I should walk away. Leave her wrecked and defeated.
Instead—I snap.
I crawl onto the table, grip her face, and crush my mouth against hers. She tastes like blood and spit andme.
My cock hardens again.
I bite her bottom lip, tear it open. She jerks and I drive my tongue deeper, devouring every broken sound she tries to swallow.
But then—she snaps too.
