And when he finallymoved? When his tongue flicked out to taste the slick heat of me?
I choked on a cry of pleasure.
His hands gripped me tighter, holding me open, holding mestill, as he began to feast like I was his last meal. No slow buildup. No teasing. Just deep, hungry strokes that had me clawing at the sheets and biting my lip to keep from sobbing his name.
He licked me like he knew me, like he’d dreamed of this countless times… like he owned me.
And I let him because, in that moment, he did own me. I didn’t stand a chance, not with the way he touched me… not with the way heateme.
His mouth moved like he’d spent years memorizing the rhythm of my body. Like every flick of his tongue, every suck to my clit, every dirty, desperate groan against my pussy had been rehearsed in the dark.
And maybe it had.
Maybe Iwasjust some fantasy made flesh, but god, I didn’t fucking care because right now, I was coming apart on a stranger’s mouth with nothing but a blindfold on and his hands gripping my thighs like he’ddieif I pulled away from him.
I cried out, low and raw, hips bucking once — twice — before he pinned me down again andkept fucking going.
He didn’t stop, and he didn’t let up. He just held me open and sucked me through it, tongue working me harder, deeper, until the first orgasm bled into another and another.
My legs shook and my hands scrambled for something to hold, somethingreal, but all I could find was the duvet and the sharp ache of my own clenched muscles.
I was writhing now, begging with my body even when my mouth couldn’t form the words, and when he finally pulled back — just a breath, just a beat — I thought I might sob from the loss.
But then his mouth was at my ear, hot and heavy, and his voice — god,his voice— raked across my skin like a sin.
Not a name, not a whispered endearment. He just growled out one word, low and savage as he massaged my clit with relentless fingers:
“Mine.”
I fucking shattered. Not just my body.Allof me, all at once. I came with a cry I couldn’t hold back, raw and broken and utterly, completely his, and I didn’t even really know who he was.
Chapter
Fifteen
BEN
December 11 – 11:47 p.m.
I stoodat the foot of her bed, my lungs burning like I’d sprinted through a forest fire with a blade plunged between my ribs.
Chrissy lay sprawled across the sheets, blindfolded, thighs trembling, slick and open and so goddamn beautiful my vision tunneled for a second. The ruined green silk lay in tattered shreds on the floor like a battlefield flag. Her red lace thong was long gone, peeled off and stuffed in my pocket like the trophy it was, still warm from her body. My mouth tasted like her orgasm and my chin was dripping with it. My cock was a steel spike behind my zipper, leaking, furious, begging for release.
I’d told myself I wasn’t going to touch her tonight beyond the spanking and rewarding her by eating her out if she was a good little doll for me.
I swore it, actually. Repeated it in the mirror before I came upstairs like some kind of mantra a sane man might’ve listened to.
But the second I walked into the room and found her blindfolded, breathing hard, her dainty little hands trembling just enough to split a piece of me wide open, I knew I was already lying to myself.
I stood in front of her for an excruciatingly long moment, trying my best to pretend I still had a shred of self-control left to my name. I didn’t… not even close.
I should’ve left the second I’d licked her sweet pussy clean. I should’ve left the second I peeled that soaked scrap of red lace down her legs and watched it cling to her dripping wet folds before surrendering. As a matter of fact, I should never have touched her at all.
Before I could stop myself, I issued a command, the words scraping out of me, low and lethal.
“Get on your knees for me, little doll.”
A full-body shudder rolled through her. She didn’t hesitate or question me, nor did she argue.
