All the power is with him as he decides how this is going to play out.
My mouth is so wet that he is sliding like a mad animal inside of me, and tears are forming in my eyes. One small tear falls onto his inner thigh.
“Your tears on me are such a fucking turn-on. I’m the only one who can make you cry. I’m the only one you are ever going to fuck again. Understood?” Does he really expect me to answer now? Apparently, he does because he is pushing himself deeper into my mouth. I’m matching his pace by sucking him off fucking fast.
The adrenaline rush that is coursing through my veins is the most alive I have felt in years. I’m sweating again, which seems like an everyday occurrence whenever I’m with him. His groans and quick breaths are loud, the only sounds you can hear in the room. All outside noise is blocked out.
Only we are here.
“M! Fuck!” I can barely speak because I feel like I’m choking.
“Choke on my fucking dick, pet.” He lets go of my hands, and the moment he does that, I scratch his chest with my fingernails. I need him to feel a sting, too.
“Your nails scraping my chest don’t bother me one fucking bit, pet. Now, choke!” he screams, and I want to smile because he’s losing his mind and I’m responsible for that.
“Fuck, little hummingbird, I’m coming!” I don’t make any effort to remove myself and keep on sucking him as he comes down my throat. Not a single drop is wasted as his cum fills my mouth. Once he is finished coming, I pull back and peer up at him with an innocent look.
I need to perfect this. Before I can do anything, he hoists me back on the bed, and I’m lying beside him again. Our bodies are pressed together, and I welcome the warmth. But I also welcome something else: tranquility. What wasn’t supposed to happen, happened. M and his crazy antics wormed their way into my heart. Even though any sane person would run away from him, I don’t. I need to see this dynamic through.
When I look at him, I see a man in l…
Nope, not going there.
“That felt like heaven. How are you this perfect?” he asks me as he kisses my cheek. I feel my face burning, and this feels even more intimate than what we just did.
“Believe me, I am not perfect. You, on the other hand.” I wink at him before I tackle him on the bed. We laugh and tickle each other like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
This is odd.
We stop tickling each other as M hears my stomach growling. I’m fucking hungry.
“Follow me, now. I need to feed you,” he says. He stands up, all naked, and I follow him to the kitchen. Once I enter the kitchen, I see that he has made quite a spread. Bosnian sausage mixed with eggs, fresh orange juice, Bosnian coffee, bread, and what seems like strawberry jam.
I have a puzzled look on my face because this shouldn't be happening.
“I am more than happy to give you another punishment, Lana.” We are back at Lana. “But I need to head out to Tuzla soon. I have a business meeting.”
“Of course.” I sit down and start chowing down my breakfast. Last night really did a number on me because I am freaking hungry. After a couple of minutes, I look at M and ask him a question.
“Aren’t you going to pray before you eat?” My question catches him off guard, and he seems offended.
“I haven’t prayed since I was a child. God has given up on me, so why should I cling to a belief that has forsaken me?”
“Why are you so anti-religion?” I’m not that religious myself, but M is really mad.
“Look at the state of the world, there is debauchery around every corner. What God would let that happen?”
“Good point. But, M, please?” My question hangs in the room, and he takes a deep breath.
“My mom had cancer, and from that point on, I didn’t believe in God anymore. How could He let a good woman like that get sick?”
“So I won’t see you pray anytime soon?” I try to lighten the mood, and it works.
“Absolutely fucking not. Everybody knows that I don’t pray, and if you ever see me do that, then I must be really desperate and out of options.” I take his hand in my left one and kiss it. And thank God, he relaxes a bit.
“Who taught you to make all of this? Your dad?” M scoffs and looks down into his coffee mug.
“Mymama. She taught me all of the basic domestic stuff, and I’m grateful for that.” He still isn’t looking at me, and I think it’s because this is a sensitive topic, so I need to approach it carefully.
