Then the other.
Back and forth until her skin was marked with spit and precum.
Until she panted.
Until I was a split second away from spraying her face with cum.
“Wrong answer. Try again.” I said when I was sure I had her full attention, my breath hard and heavy.
Her eyes blazed. “You.”
“Say it properly.”
“You.”
“Again. Louder.” I barked.
Her voice cracked. “You.”
I pulled her back onto my cock, deeper this time, until her nose pressed against my pelvis, her breath teasing the hair there.
“That’s right,” I growled, holding her there. “You’re mine. Every inch of you. This mouth. This body. All of you.”
I fucked her throat again, harder now, chasing the release that was building.
She gagged, tears streaming down her face, but she took it.
All of it.
“And if I ever—” thrust “—see another man—” thrust “—touch you again—”
I didn’t finish the sentence.
Didn’t need to.
The threat hung in the air, as real as the hand in her hair.
She gave me a microscopic nod, and it triggered my release.
“Swallow,” I ordered, holding her head in place. “Every fucking drop.”
She did.
I kept her there until the last spasm faded and my cock slipped from her lips.
She collapsed back against the seat, coughing, gasping.
Her face was tear-streaked. Lips swollen. Chin and cheeks wet with spit and cum.
Destroyed. Mine.
I tucked myself away, buckled my belt.
Watched her try to compose herself.
“Clean yourself up,” I said, my voice flat now. Controlled.
She wiped her face with shaking hands.