Why nother?
Giovanni's voice echoes in my head from the phone call…If I can keep my dick out of her mouth for six weeks surely you can handle not choking her for one.
That's Giovanni's addiction—throat-fucking so hard he leaves bruises, makes them gag and cry, pushes until they can barely swallow the next day.
I've watched him lose control of it.
Just like he's watched me lose control ofthis.
But what if we didn't?
What if I trained her—trainedmyself—properly this time instead of rushing toward the inevitable disaster?
I ease the pressure on her throat.
Just slightly.
Watch her eyes refocus.
Then I press again—just a little more, just enough to make her…flutter.
She starts to collapse, and the moment she does this—theinstantI see her consciousness beginning to slip—I release completely.
She gasps, dizzy, returning to herself with a sharp inhale.
"Again," I murmur against her forehead, still fucking her slowly now, deliberately. "We'll do it again, a stór. Nice and easy. I've got ya."
I press.
Watch her eyes.
Wait for the flutter.
Release.
She comes back gasping?—
And then sheshatters.
Her orgasm hits like a freight train, entire body convulsing in my lap, pussy clamping down on my cock so hard I see stars. She screams—wordless, broken, beautiful—and I hold her through it, forehead pressed to hers, hand still resting gently on her throat.
"That's it, beloved," I whisper, voice rough. "I've got ya. You're safe. I won't lose control. I promise."
The words are for both of us.
Her inner muscles are still pulsing when my own orgasm slams into me—brutal, overwhelming, stealing every coherent thought as I come deep inside her, filling her completely while she trembles and gasps against my chest.
I hold her close through the aftershocks.
Keep my forehead pressed to hers.
Keep whispering promises I desperately hope I can keep.
"Never too much," I murmur. "Never too far. We'll train together, a stór. Slow and careful. One day we'll do it right."
She nods weakly, collapsed against me.
I'm still inside her.
