“That’s it. I like begging. Prefer it, so you have to admit how bad you want it.” He pulls his lips off my neck. “Other hand up there, too. Keep them there.”
I barely bite back theyes, sir. It’s ingrained. My father demands to be answered with “Yes, sir,” and it’s a mandatory form of address at North Point Military Academy. But that’s not what I want here. Maybe I want him to fucking take me, but it’s my choice. Calling peoplesirisn’t by choice.
“Open your neck for me. That’s it. I want to taste you.”
Tate’s gentler than I expected. Than I want. But that’s part of his game, isn’t it? Take what he gives me, even if it’s less than what I’d demand were I in charge. I’d want rough. I’d let him fuck me raw against this tree, no matter how irresponsible that is.
“More,” I plead.
“Believe me, if we didn’t have to go back in there, you’d be leaving with fat hickeys all up your neck.”
So, he’s not gentle; he’s cautious.
That’s also reality knocking—I’m going to have to return at some point. Why did my leash have to get yanked so soon? Fuck, what am I doing? I should go. I’ve been gone long enough. Father’s probably going to be pissed. I drop my hands and push at his chest. He stops, frowning.
“I should go,” I say. I pull away.
“Wait.” His hand grips all the way around my wrist—I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that to me before—and traps me in his arms. At least he’s touching me. I like it better when he’s touching me. “I know you were enjoying that.”
He stares, thinking, ghosting fingers over my nose, his thumb landing just under my bottom lip.
“I need relief, and you need to stop all those thoughts rolling around in your head,” he declares.
“How the fuck?—”
“I can see them, Ryan. Those thoughts. The turmoil on your face. It’s fucking delicious. I could revel in it, but I’d rather have your lips around my cock. Wouldn’t you like that, too? Nothing but my cock to worry about, your sole purpose in life to suck it?”
My head nods as if it’s being controlled by some other unworldly force. Or maybe that’s the excuse I need. This isn’t me. I’m usually the one doing the manhandling. I’m anything but an obedient little lamb despite the way I have to be around my father. The last thing I want is someone controlling me.
And yet, I want to feel the edges of this man’s cage closing me in.
“Get on your fucking knees, dollface.”
They buckle, and I drop like a bag of rocks, knees hitting the solid dirt. Wait, did he call me dollface? Fuck it. I’m about to reach for his belt buckle, but then I remember—no touching.
He cups my cheek. “Good boy.” Good god, that’s hot, but not as hot as the clang of his belt and the metalziiiipsound. “Open.”
I wish I could say that I hesitate, but I don’t, so hungry for his cock. But I’m not the idiot my father thinks I am, and it’s pretty damn clear that whatever urge has me craving this is the same one fueling him.
Adorable.We’re two fucked up kindred spirits, or some fucking shit.
There’s no warm-up and no warning, just his cock barreling into my mouth, almost taking out my damn teeth. He groans above me.
“Fuck, such a sweet, dirty mouth. I’m gonna fuck it so good. Fuck your throat raw.”
I take pride in my cock sucking skills, but tonight I’m like an amateur, barely able to keep up with his terrifying pace. Breathing through my nose becomes essential, my senses drift, and I never get used to his cock being roughly slammed into my mouth.
It’s … it’s so good, though. So fucking good.
His capable fingers slide into my sandy blond hair, cinching the roots, making me nothing but a wet hole for his cock. My lips stretched wide around its formidable girth.
I’ve never felt this kind of freedom. Free from thinking, from deciding, from putting on a pretty show. I just have to do this, listen to his voice, taste him. And my cock, fuck, it’s an agonized rod of steel, trapped behind my zipper. Thunderbolts of terrifying pleasure race through me.
A faint salty taste skims the back of my throat, and his cock pulses on my tongue. “Swallow,” he demands.
I do, sucking. Licking. Not wanting to lose the connection with his thick cock. He pulls out slowly, and in my delusional mind, I believe it’s because he doesn’t want to lose the connection either. Which is a fucking stupid thought, but at least it’s the only thought I have. Maybe I need that tonight, too. Something way out of my wheelhouse. Something made oftwilight magic. Someone to whisk me away from a life I don’t want. One I’m scared to exist in.
There’s a gentle slapping against my face, a sharp contrast to the violence of that face fucking. I blink my eyes, drowsy. Fuck, my forehead’s leaned against his leg, I’mtouchinghim, but he’s not as fraught about it as he was before.
