He gently guided her down to her knees on the cool kitchen tiles, unzipping his trousers and freeing his cock. It sprang out heavy and flushed, thick veins standing out, the head already slick with pre-cum. Lyra stared at it, nervous but determined, her green eyes wide.
She started tentative and unsure — slow, hesitant licks along the underside, then swirling her tongue around the head, tasting the salt of him. Caelum groaned softly, one hand threading gently into her dark red hair, guiding her without forcing.
“That’s it… just like that,” he murmured, voice rough with pleasure. “You’re doing so well. We’ll figure it out together — you’re my first too.”
She grew bolder, taking him deeper into her mouth, sucking experimentally. Her tongue fluttered, learning what made his breath hitch and his hips twitch. Caelum’s groans deepened, low and guttural, feeding her confidence.
But his darker urges surfaced quickly.
The restraint he had maintained all morning snapped.
He stopped her with a firm hand in her hair, pulling her off his cock with a wet pop. His eyes were darker now, pupils blown wide.
“I need something else,” he said, voice rougher, edged with raw need. “Something that will really satisfy me. Will you let me?”
She nodded, anxious but determined, lips already swollen. “Anything.”
He lifted her easily onto the narrow kitchen island, laying her back so her head hung off the edge, throat exposed in a long, vulnerable line. The position was deliberate — her head tilted back, mouth open and waiting. Lyra’s heart hammered with nerves, but she wanted to please him. She wanted to be good.
Caelum stood over her, cock heavy and slick, and pressed the thick head to her parted lips.
He started gentle — shallow thrusts into her mouth, letting her adjust, letting her breathe. But the hunger in him was too strong. He pushed deeper. Then deeper still.
Lyra’s eyes widened as he slid into her throat, the bulge visible under the delicate skin of her neck. She gagged instantly, throatconvulsing around him, but he didn’t stop. He kept pushing, slow and relentless, until her nose pressed against his pelvis and her throat was stretched obscenely around the full length of his cock.
So tight,Caelum thought, dark satisfaction flooding him.So fucking perfect. She’s taking every inch for me.
Lyra’s mind spun in panic and determination.I can do this. I want to please him. I need to be good for him.But her body rebelled — throat spasming violently, eyes watering, tears spilling down her temples and into her hair. She choked and gasped around him, the wet, obscene sounds filling the kitchen.
Caelum’s hand stroked the prominent bulge in her throat, feeling his own cock move inside her. “That’s my good girl,” he groaned, voice low and filthy. “Look at you… throat bulging with me. You’re made for this.”
He started moving faster, hips snapping with controlled force. Each thrust drove deeper, rougher, using her throat like a toy. Lyra’s hands flew up, nails digging violently into his forearms, scratching deep red lines that quickly welled with blood. She scratched harder, frantic, trying to push him back, trying to breathe, but Caelum didn’t care. He didn’t even flinch at the pain. Blood trickled down his arms, dripping onto the countertop, but his rhythm never faltered.
She’s fighting,he thought with cold, possessive pride.But she’s still taking me. She’ll learn to love this too.
Lyra was crying openly now, choking and gagging, throat raw and burning. Her nails raked deeper, drawing more blood, but she couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t pull away. The world narrowed to the brutal stretch of her throat and the overwhelming need to please him.
Caelum fucked her throat harder, faster, hand stroking the bulge roughly as he chased his release. His groans turned into low, animalistic sounds. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he buriedhimself to the hilt and came — thick, hot pulses flooding straight down her throat.
He held there for long seconds, savoring the way her throat convulsed around him, milking every drop.
When he finally pulled out, strings of saliva and cum connected her swollen lips to his cock. Lyra gasped and coughed violently, tears streaming down her face, throat raw and aching.
Caelum stroked her hair gently, thumb wiping tears from her cheeks. Blood from the deep scratches on his arms smeared across her skin, but he didn’t care.
Lyra was trembling, throat burning, but a strange, hazy pride bloomed in her chest at his words. She had pleased him. She had taken everything he gave her.
The oven dinged.
Their lunch was ready.
* * *
They carried the trays up to the observatory themselves.
The meal they had finished preparing together in the kitchen — tender herb-crusted fish with a crisp golden sear, roasted root vegetables glazed in butter and sea salt, and a simple but bright salad of fresh greens dressed in lemon and olive oil — smelled incredible. The fish was still warm, flaky and fragrant with rosemary and garlic; the vegetables had that perfect caramelized edge from the oven. Lyra balanced her tray carefully, cheeks still flushed from everything that had happened on the kitchen island. Her throat felt raw and swollen, every swallow a vivid reminder of how deeply she had taken him, how violently her body had fought and then surrendered. Tears had dried on her temples, leaving faint salty tracks, but beneath the soreness bloomed a strange, quiet pride.
Caelum walked beside her, tray in one hand, the other resting possessively at the small of her back. His forearms still bore the fresh, angry scratches she had left — deep red lines that had beaded with blood and were now drying into thin, dark streaks. He hadn’t bothered to clean them. He wore them openly, like badges.
