“Open your mouth wide.”
Pleasure zips up my spine, and my orgasm slams into me at an astounding force. My cock releases, and I can barely keep my eyes from rolling at the sight of my thick white cum filling her mouth. “Jesus, yes.” I pump my hand. “Don’t swallow,” I grind out. “Don’t you fuckin’ swallow.”
Her mouth fills with my pleasure, and there’s something indescribable about the sight.
Domination.
Bliss.
Beauty.
I’m not sure, whatever it is, it’s controlling me, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
I reach inside my cut and pull out my phone, and before she has a chance to say anything, I take a photo of her. Her hair messy, white cum flooding her mouth, and my cock gleaming with the remnants of her spittle and my release.
Then I tuck my cock away while she remains still, almost vulnerable. I pull on her chin with my thumb,giving her no option but to open her mouth wider, and use my finger to scoop some cum from her tongue.
Slowly, while she remains transfixed, I write my name on her forehead, filling me with an overwhelming sense of ownership.
Our eyes lock, my heart throbs, and she releases a small whimper.
Her eyes soften as if she knows what I’ve written, and I hate that; I’d much rather see the same venom I feel reflecting back at me when I look at her. Hating her is easier that way. So, rather than analyze the emotions of seeing my name on her body, and worse, the fact I wanted it there, I step back, disconnecting from her.
“Spit it out!” I demand.
She scans my face, and a crease forms on her forehead.
“Push my cum out of your mouth with your tongue.”
Slowly, she does as I asked, and it’s a fucking glorious sight. My cock twitches, and I swear I could go again, something that hasn’t been possible in a long while.
My cum dribbles down her chin, creating a mess on the floor, and when some splatters on my boot, a deep-seated need of dominance overtakes me.
She breathes heavily when her mouth is empty, but she remains rooted to the spot.
“Now, clean my boot.”
Her eyes flare, and she licks her lips.
Fuck me, she’s as hungry for this as I am.
With her eyes locked on mine, she plants her hands on the floor beside my boots, then leans forward, and I can’t help but hiss between my teeth as she makes a show of languorously swiping her tongue over my boot.
The tension in the room feels like we’re waiting for an explosion. Sure, the power dynamic between us is electric,and the thought of pushing her until her breaking point feels intoxicating. I’m just unsure how to reach that stage or if I truly want to.
Movement coming from the hallway has me stepping back like my ass is on fire, but what surprises me more is, she doesn’t. She remains on the floor, staring at me, waiting for my command, and I’m not sure I like it.
She stares back at me with panic in her eyes, yet makes no move to get up.
I clear my throat and turn my head away from her, using the opportunity to buckle up my belt.
“Get up and clean up. Your kid needs you.”
She gets to her feet, and I head out.
I have my hand on the latch when she calls out. “Killa?”
I still at the softness of her voice, but I’m unable to turn and face her. Not knowing if I’m going to like what I see.
