"Yes."
"What else?" His other hand slides down my stomach to the button of my jeans. "Where else do you need my hands?"
"Everywhere. I need your hands everywhere."
He makes a satisfied sound and pops the button on my jeans, drags the zipper down. "Now I'm going to show you what it means to be mine."
He slides his hand inside my jeans, inside my underwear. His fingers find me wet and ready. He pushes two fingers inside me without warning.
"Fucking soaked." He pulls his hand away and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean while maintaining eye contact. "You taste like you belong to me."
He steps back and reaches for his belt. "On your knees."
I blink at him. "What?"
"I don't want to repeat myself, Francesca. On your knees. Now."
The command in his voice makes my legs give out. I sink down onto the floor.
He strips off his belt, pops the button on his jeans, drags down the zipper. When he pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down, I see him for the first time.
He's big. Thick and flushed, already hard and ready.
"Open your mouth."
I hesitate and he grabs my hair, wrenching my head back. Not gently.
"When I give you an order, you obey. Open. Your. Mouth."
I part my lips and he guides himself between them. The thick head presses against my tongue and I taste salt and musk and him.
"Wider." He pushes in. "I want to feel the back of your throat."
I gag and he doesn't stop. He doesn't pull back. He just holds my head in place with the fistful of hair.
"Breathe through your nose. You can take more." He pushes in another inch and I choke. "That's it. Struggle for me. I want tofeel your throat work around my cock while you fight to take all of me."
Water streams down my face as he slides in. He's too big. But the grip in my hair keeps me in place.
"Look at you. Crying with my cock in your mouth." He pulls back slightly and I gasp for air. "So fucking pretty when you cry for me."
He sets a rhythm, fucking my mouth with deliberate strokes. He makes me take him all the way to the back of my throat each time.
My hand starts to drift downward, desperate for relief, but he catches my wrist.
"No." He pulls my hand away. "Your pleasure belongs to me. Not you. Put your hands behind your back."
I obey, clasping my hands together.
"You don't touch yourself. You don't come unless I allow it. I control every sensation, every orgasm, every fucking breath you take while I'm inside you." His voice is sharp. "You exist for my pleasure now. That's what being mine means."
I moan around him and he tightens the grip in my hair.
"That's right. Accept it." His rhythm speeds up, thrusts getting rougher. "This is what you wanted when you kissed me. You wanted the monster. Now you get to choke on him."
His control begins to fracture. He fucks my mouth, with increasing intensity, chasing his release. Tears and excess saliva run down my chin. It's messy and vicious and nothing at all like I imagined. And yet I can feel my pussy throbbing and my nipples tightening into diamond shards.
"I'm going to come down your throat and you're going to swallow every drop. And you're going to thank me for it after."
