His eyes flicker with danger, and I can tell he has the urge to fight against my order. When he tips up that chiseled chin, I expect him to do just that. Dagen Fox is hardly submissive, but right now, he’s humoring me. Something ticks in his jaw when he clenches his teeth.
“Please,” he finally grunts. “Please let me taste you, little bird.”
“Such a good boy you are,” I tease, flattered that he’d done it, even if it wasn’t truly what I’d consider begging. We can work on that, on the prone way he kneels before me, on the heated begging he spits while I hold myself out of his reach. Right now, though, I have no urge to torture myself. I want him. God, I want him. We’ve been dancing around this attraction since the beginning. And now here we are.
A shiver runs through his body at my praise. The fire in his eyes shifts, letting me know I’ll pay for everything I do later, but right now, I’m in control.
I gently tug my underwear down and let them drop, leaving me completely naked in front of him. He waits patiently as I step forward, his hand held in his lap, his fingers clenching together tightly.
“You can touch me,” I tell him and his hands immediately fly to my hips, stroking up and down my thighs, driving me insane with his touch.
His hands splay across my ass and then, without warning, he pushes me backward. The backs of my knees hit the chair and I stumble, falling onto my ass in the plush seat with a little squeak of surprise. Before I can adjust myself, his hands are on my legs, throwing them over the armrests, spreading me wide for him to see.
He grins up at me. “That’s a good girl,” he purrs, before he buries his face between my thighs.
I cry out, gasping for breath as his tongue slides through my folds, finding the evidence of my arousal there. He moans against me and the vibrations go straight to my clit. I cry out again and his hand comes down on my mouth, silencing me, reminding me that we can’t be too loud because we’re in public, in a dressing room, in this way too expensive store.
Easier said than done.
His tongue runs around my clit and I spear my hands into his hair, holding him close, desperate for more, and also desperate to push him away and ease this aching tension.
“Tell me to fuck you,” he commands against my core despite him saying I’m in control. “Before I stop following orders and sink into this pretty cunt regardless.”
My fingers clench in his hair, holding him to me. I grind against his face, wanting more, needing more, hungry for him.
“Be good and make me come first,” I command instead with breathy pants. “Please,” I add. Just because I’m nice like that.
He laughs and then focuses on me, consuming me, driving me insane with each flick of his tongue. His hand traces up my thigh, leaving behind goosebumps in its wake. When those fingers slip through my slick folds and probe at my entrance, I’m prepared for him to make me orgasm.
Or at least, I thought I was.
He presses two fingers inside me, strokes for maybe a few seconds, and then curls those fingers up like the masterful fucker he is. He hits my g-spot and I shatter, my body shaking with my release, my lips parting on an almost cry until his free hand covers them again. Those fingers stroke that spot over and over again, curling rapidly, before warmth spreads as I gush around his fingers. I flush, desperate for more, eager for it, strange cooing noises coming from my throat despite his hand over my mouth.
He moans at my pleasure, rolling his tongue along my clit, destroying me so thoroughly, I don’t know how to handle it.
“Fuck me,” I croak around his fingers, shaking so hard I know my legs won’t support me if I try to stand right now. “Fuck me. Please.”
He straightens and lifts his fingers to his lips, licking my release from his fingers. “If I’d have known you were a squirter, I would have done this sooner,” he purrs. “I can’t wait to feel you gush around my cock.”
My eyes widen. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
“Give me free rein, little bird,” he says, his eyes on mine. “Go ahead.”
“You. . .” I press my hand to my chest. “You can have control.”
His lips curl. “Such a good girl.” He reaches down to his slacks and pops the button free. I watch as he frees his sizeable cock, as he strokes his hand along the shaft thoroughly. He grabs the chair and drags it away from the wall with me on it, his hands keeping my legs pinned over the sides. And then he stands and eases forward, pushing the back of the chair against the wall so my hips are tilted up before he runs his cock through my juices. He eases the tip inside and then pops back out before repeating it again, teasing.
“Fuck me already,” I groan quietly, my nails digging into his shoulders.
And despite me giving him the control, he follows my order. He presses inside me, stretching me, and we both moan softly at the feeling of it.
“Remember,” he says as he bottoms out, his cock jerking as he grits his teeth against the feeling of it. “No sounds.”
And then he does everything in his power to make me scream.
Using the chair as leverage, he thrusts inside me brutally. Sounds immediately start leaving my throat, the pleasure too great to keep them contained. He grabs his shirt from the back of the chair where it hangs behind me and shoves it into my mouth when I moan, muffling the sound. When his own moans start to grow in volume, he swipes my underwear up from the ground and clenches them between his teeth, the corded muscles of his neck taut with his willpower.
mIt's the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
