He's urging me down. The pressure is insistent, impossible to ignore. I know what he wants from me. I can feel a fine tremor running through my muscles, begging me to go down, begging me to resist.
I should resist. I should tell him no, fight him. I should preserve whatever dignity I have left. I don’t think he’d force me, if he believed that I truly didn’t want this. I should stop this now, before it goes any further.
But I don't.
I let him guide me to my knees on the library’s rug, my heart beating faster with every second that passes. He has absolute control over me in this moment, and he knows it. I feel weak down to my bones, aching, so wet I know I’ve soaked through my panties. I want to see him. I want him so badly it hurts.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Look at me," he commands.
I look up at him from my knees and I can see the hunger in his eyes—the desire. The dark satisfaction of having me exactly where he wants me.This is why, I think dizzily, as his fingers tighten in my hair, holding my mouth an inch from where I can see his cock straining against his fly. The feeling of making a man this powerful come undone is intoxicating. He’s someone who always strives for control, who commands everything around him… and he’s unable to resist me. He didn’t want to want me any more than I wanted to want him.
But he can’t help himself, either. All the money and power in the world, and I’m the woman who he can’t stop himself from needing to devour.
The thought makes me gasp with arousal.
He undoes his belt with a quick motion, then slides down his zipper. When he frees his cock, the barbell through the head catches the light. This close to my face, I can see exactly how thick and long he is. My heart trips in my chest. I don’t know how much of him I can fit in my mouth.
"Open," he says, and I’m helpless to do anything but obey.
I part my lips, and he guides the tip of his cock into my mouth. I taste salt and skin and the metallic edge of the piercing against my tongue, and as he pushes in another inch, my jaw has to stretch to accommodate him. The fullness is overwhelming, and I have to fight the urge to pull back.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice is rough with pleasure. "Take it. Take me."
Everything in me is screaming to pull away, and clamoring for more at the same time. I stare up at him as I take him deeper, feeling the piercing drag against my tongue, feeling the weight of him filling my mouth. My hands come up to grip his thighs. I need something to hold onto.
This feels like a challenge. I can see it in his eyes, the dare of whether or not I can take him as well with my mouth as I did in my pussy last night. He’s wondering if he can humiliate me, make me feel useless, and I refuse.
I’ll suck his cock so well it’ll bring him to his knees.The thought startles me, and before I realize it, he’s pushed deeper, all the way to the back of my throat. I gag, and he moans, his blue eyes darkening with lust.
And then he starts to move. He doesn’t actually want to hurt me—I can tell from the way he goes slowly at first, thrusting his thick length over my tongue in shallow, slow movements. He’s trying to let me adjust to the size and the difference of having the piercings in my mouth, having so much trying to push into my throat all at once.
But then his control starts to slip and his movements become harder, more demanding.
The hand in my hair tightens, guiding my head, controlling the pace. I can feel tears starting to form in my eyes as he pushes deeper, testing my limits and seeing how much I can take.
"Fuck," he groans, gasping as my throat convulses around him. "Your mouth. God, your mouth. So fucking good. Fuck, I should come down your throat every fucking morning.Christ, ptitsa, fuck."
I suck harder, my tongue sliding against the veined, pierced underside of his cock. When he pulls out to the tip, I flick my tongue against the piercing in the head, moving it back and forth, my gaze locked on his. The response is immediate—his hips jerk forward, pushing deeper, and the groan he lets out is almost pained.
"You like that," he growls. "You like feeling it. Like knowing what it does to me."
I do. I shouldn't, but I do.
I lean in, working him with my mouth harder, feeling his fingers knot in my hair as I tease him with every stroke. Every time he pulls out, I roll that piercing against my tongue, tease along his shaft as he pushes in, taking back some control. It’s harder work than any blowjob has ever been, but I can feel him coming undone. I can feel his thigh trembling under my hand, feel how impossibly hard he is in my mouth. I think he’s been fighting not to come for minutes now, trying to keep going, but he’s going to break soon.
My jaw aches. My eyes are watering. I can barely breathe.
And I don't want to stop.
“Oh,fuck,” he growls, his hand in my hair curling around the back of my head. “Fuck, I’m going to come. I can’t… fuck, I’m going to fill your fucking throat?—”
He shoves himself forward, burying himself in my mouth, and as I cough and gag around his length, I feel him spurt down my throat. My eyes are streaming tears, my lips tight around him as I fight to breathe, and it feels like he’s never going to stop coming. His hips buck, the piercings rough in my throat, spurt after spurt pouring into me as the muscles of his abdomen flex against my nose.
“God, you make me come like nothing else,” he pants, still twitching against my tongue as he thrusts once more and then retreats. “Fuck.”
I gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes and swollen lips, and the look on his face makes my stomach clench with desire. He looks wrecked, his hair tousled around his face, his eyes dark, his lips parted as he gasps for breath. He’s fully clothed, only his cock jutting free of his trousers, beginning to soften in the aftermath.
