I never thought I had a praise kink, but I legitimately almost had an orgasm just now, so perhaps I do.
"You like that, don't you?" His growl is dark and hard and roiling with power. He knows I do. "You do. I can see it in your eyes, Brys. You love this. Don't you?"
I whimper again at his words.
"Don't you, Brys?"
"Mmmm-hmmm!” It's all I can manage, and that just barely as his cock slides deeper and deeper, millimeter by millimeter, and I have to breathe through my nose and gulp and gag for breath around him, and I’m on the cusp of panic.
As if able to read me like a book, Jakob withdraws, a string of saliva connecting my lips to his cock. His thumb caresses my lips. "Good girl, Brys. You take my cock beautifully."
"Thank you," I whisper, gazing up at him through lowered lashes, chest heaving, desire pooling between my thighs.
His grin is searing, pleased and aroused, blazing with erotic glee. Hereallygets off on this whole power trip thing. Why that's so fucking hot to me, I am unwilling to examine.
I know how freaky it makes me, wanting to be controlled and dominated. And by the way, I'm not using the word “dominated" in the BDSM sense, but rather in the more literal, mental and emotional sense. I'm not into leather gimp masks and ball gags and being hogtied like some sort of fly caught in a nylon spiderweb. I just want a man to take away my control, my power, my authority. To use me. To take away the decisions. And I want this on my terms, safely and consensually. I want my agency back the moment we leave the bedroom. I want it to be private between the two of us because I have a reputation to consider, one that is the foundation of my authority as CEO of Bennett Development, Incorporated.
Jakob's breathing is slow and deep and even—tightly controlled. His abs are braced. Thighs bunched and iron-hard. Jaw clenched.
He is at the ragged edge of climax and desperately fighting it back. My god, the man's control over himself is honestly very impressive.
He grips his cock in his fist, paints my lips with precum beaded on his tip. "Ask for it, Brys."
"Please, Jakob," I breathe, stomach fluttering and pussy clenching around nothing as desire howls inside me like a hurricane. "I need your cock."
Who am I, right now? Begging for a penis? Yet I can't stop myself. I really do want it. I want him to take my mouth and use it. Not that I'd ever say as much in so many words, even under threat of death.
"Open."
I part my lips and gaze up at him. "Are you going to come in my mouth, now, Jakob?"
He feeds his cock into my mouth, hot, firm flesh sliding over my tongue, nudging the back of my throat. He knots my hair in one fist, keeping a firm grip on me as he pumps gently, nuzzling the back of my throat with his soft, springy tip. "Is that what you want, Brys?"
"Yes."
"Say it. Tell me what you want."
"I want you to come down my throat."
"Beg for it."
"Please, Jakob." I stare up at him, caress his thighs with my palms, his hips, his ass. Gather his cock in my hands and stroke his length with both fists. "Please,pleasecome for me. Give it to me. All of it. Right now. Fill my mouth. Make me choke on your cum."
Jesus, I'm a depraved woman.Make me choke on your cum?
Really?Really, right now? What the actual hell is wrong with me?
Why isthatwhat I want more than anything? With this man, especially, the one putting my life at risk—this man who blazed into my life, literally crashed into me and turned everything upside down and inside out while offering very little by way of explanation.
And now I'm on my knees in front of him, playing with his cock and begging for him to come down my throat.
But I'm nothing if not honest with myself—when I want to be—and the honest truth is that as fucked up as this is, I'm thrilled. I'm seconds from orgasming without him so much as touching my tits. I'm so turned on by this reversal of power dynamic that I could come from a stiff breeze blowing across my clitoris.
Jakob's grin is feral. "I don't believe you.” He frames the back of my head in his hands. "Show me that you mean it, Brys. Show me how badly you want my cock. Show me how badly you want my cum."
I lock eyes with him, caressing his thick, hot length with both hands. I watch his jaw tick and pulse, feel his cock throb in my hands, watch his abs tighten until he's harder than a cinderblock wall. So close. I speed my strokes. Curl my fingers around his cock-head to form a cup, drip saliva, and smear it down his shaft so my strokes slide slick and quick. He sucks in a sharp inhalation through his nose, lets it out slowly, brow furrowing, jaw grinding so hard I swear I hear his molars creak under the titanic pressure.
Faster. Faster. On one hand, pumping furiously at his root, the other fluttering and twisting around the glans.
