“I wanna eat this sweet thing until you drench my face,” He croaks, his words dirty and wrong but feeling so right.
God, I feel so good I don’t know what to think. This man wants me. For the first time in my life, someone wants me and it isn’t about fulfilling a duty or doing the right thing either. It’s me.He’s looking at me in a way that makes me feel cherished.
“Tell me I can eat it? Give me the order, angel, and I’ll eat it so good,” he murmurs, his jaw ticking when I shiver and shake my head to test the waters. “Ah hell. Gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?” he asks, a soft smile playing at the edges of his lips when I gasp and nod, letting out a moan.
“I’m hungry.”
“Of course you are!” he growls, shaking his head with disgust and giving my sex one last longing glance before he rises and lifts me, pounding down the stairs with me clutched to his chest.
I don’t say anything as he lowers me to a chair at a large table. Looking around while he works in the kitchen, I take the place in. It’s large, open, and has floor-to-ceiling windows running the length of the house in the back. I can see the yard from here and a big deck with a hammock swing off to one side. To the left is the living room. It’s big and pristine with dark wood floors, cream walls, and big brown couches. I even see a fireplace, all stone and ready to provide heat once snow falls in the winter.
The house is…strangely empty though for all its luxury and when I look up, I see Zack watching me from the stove where he’s frying eggs.
“Your home is beautiful,” I say softly, thinking of my small two-bedroom home where I hide from the world.
Everything there is gran’s. The sofas, floral and pristine are gran’s. Even the doilies handing over the backs. They aren’t me, but I don’t really know who me is, so I never changed it.
“It’s not a home. Just a house,” Zack mutters, going back to the eggs while I stare at him.
He’s still hard, his cock unabashedly spearing the front of his sweat pants and though I’m nervous and hungry, I want him so badly I feel myself leaving a wet spot on the wood beneath me. Holding off isn’t about me though. I find myself loving the power that comes along with making Zack wait and as he finishes up and serves me, eating while staring at me through unblinking eyes, I feel thrilled to the core.
My breasts ache for his mouth, my sex is on fire and all I can think about is sliding down onto that thick girth he showed me and ordering him to hold still as I take him. Why I think this way…
All I know is it turns me on to see him waiting, to know he’s leashed. By me. I eat without tasting the bacon and eggs and then, only when I feel steady, do I force myself to rise and push the plates away. I’m a wreck, all nerves and budding power as I lay down on the table and turn to look at Zack.
“I think I’ll feed you now.” I sigh, a delighted smile curling my lips when he shoots up so fast the chair flies back all the way to the island and lands with a crash.
Zack doesn’t hesitate and he’s down at my feet in a second, his hands reaching for my legs.
“Tell me,” he begs, the sound vulnerable and filled with a strength that makes me feel safe.
This man, whoever he really is, needs me and I need him.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, a blush stealing over me as my core tightens. “All I know is that I want you to make it feel so good I ache for it.”
“Done!”
I cry out when I’m wrenched to the edge of the table, my ass cradled in two large hands, and then Zack leans down and starts to lick. First, a slow, gentle lick that separates my folds and then more. A wiggle against my clit, a tip pressed gently to my opening. Every move rumbles with a groan from this giant among men and it arouses me more knowing that he’s under my control.
“Tell me to fuck it, angel. Tell me to screw my tongue in deep and fuck it hard,” he begs, shaking, his mouth sucking audibly at my clit while I writhe and moan, planting my feet against his shoulders to open myself more.
“No. Only sucking and licking!” I order, my sheath going unbearably tight when Zack moans against me and obeys.
I can feel the power leashed in the hands around my thighs but he’s gentle. I feel the desperation as he French kisses my core and sucks hard on my clit, but he’s maintaining steely control as he loves me, bringing me closer, closer and then shoving me over an edge that makes me scream out and thrash, using his beard to pull him deeper while I grind on his face.
“Yes. Oh yes. It’s happening!” I scream as I smother him in me and rub myself all over his face.
I can feel his beard, wiry but satin-soft as it scrapes against my thighs and when Zack shudders and continues to suck, I want to scream out and yell a victory. I own him. Me. Little Rebecca, unwanted, an obligation. But no longer, I think as I start to wind down, my fingers turning gentle as I scrub a hand through Zack’s hair and pull his head up. Those black eyes meet mine, his nostrils flared, a drugged look of satisfaction in the depths.
“Now you can taste,” I say gently, smiling and licking my lips when he sucks on his lips and groans, pulling the glossy come into his mouth. “Just two pumps though.”
I don’t know why I say that but it’s heady when he whines and leans down, slowly, ever so slowly using his thumbs to pull me open and then pressing his tongue in deep. It hurts, pinches where his thick tongue penetrates but I ignore the sting and try to focus on the sensations. He wiggles the appendage, digging so deep his teeth scrape my folds, and then he pulls out and glares up at me accusingly.
“Too good for just two pumps, angel.”
“Two!” I demand, my legs shaking when he sighs and leans in to repeat his tasting.
“Please?” he begs, his eyes closing when I shake my head and sit up, ordering him to rise.
