with a husky, low tone. He strokes my cheeks and pumps his dick in my mouth faster, reckless even. “You said love to him—that you loved how he puts up with all your neuroses. What about me? What about what I love? I fucking told you already that I love you. Has he?”
I shake my head and choke on my stuttering inhale.
His shift from talking about me in third person to first almost frightens me. My gut tightens.
“That sensitive shithead—calls himself sensitive,” he mumbles, “trying to move in on my girl after I’ve looked for you for ten years and finally found you. God, that fucker’s delusional if he thinks I’ll let him snake his way in between us.” His abs flex as his hips tilt, and he picks up the pace even more. “Well, he can’t fucking have you. You’re mine! This shit is mine !”
I nod and swallow a little.
He grunts louder than a moment ago and with a breathless sound, dying off at the end.
“Mmanama pfuuda,” I mutter.
He smacks my cheek again lightly, then caresses them and slides his hands into my hair, his eyes soft and following his hands.
“But we both know you don’t want him. You’re just teasing that dick—stringing him along so he’ll do your bidding just like you did so long ago when we were kids. Well that stops now. You want me . You want this . And his shriveled up cock doesn’t taste this good, does it?” He halts his hips, and his tip hits the dangling piece of flesh at the back of my throat.
I try to swallow once more, but this time, nothing happens. Saliva pools at the back of my throat, almost drowning me.
He pulls out. “Answer me honestly, and I’ll untie that hand, and you can finish me off—make it up to me for cheating on me with that fucking lawyer.”
I swallow. “I don’t want him,” I whimper. “I never have. I’ve made it abundantly clear—Riot knows I’m not interested.”
He wraps his fingers loosely around my throat and leans in good and close. “That’s not what I asked you. Does. His. Cock. Taste. This. Good?” He reaches down, swipes his fingertip across the flaring tip of his dick and smears his pre-come across my upper lip. “Does he?”
“How the fuck should I know? It grosses me out to even consider being near enough for him to breathe on me,” I say, gritting through my teeth. “I’ve never touched him on my own, on purpose.”
His fingers drift menacingly up and down my throat, barely touching me. “Nor will you ever. These lips belong to me. These hands”—he wrangles my right hand free and then makes sure the left is still secure—“do what I say. They touch my cock, stroke my balls, and when I tell them to, they hit the right keys and tell me what I want to know.”
“This sounds like some perverted form of blackmail,” I tell him, glaring.
“No. Never blackmail. But you’ll share with me because I own you, and you’ll want to give me everything before long.” He groans. “I’ve wanted you for so long, you’re not getting away.”
I snort a laugh. “I must’ve missed the class required for doormat one-oh-one. Christ, Nick.”
“You did. And that’s why I started with lesson one tonight. Sucking it like a girl trying to redeem herself after talking to another man when she refused me access to her bedroom.” He sniffs at my lips and then licks the remnants he smeared of himself onto me. “And you know I need this shit—that I need you . You want me to beg to fuck you, is that it? That’s why you make me practically tear your fucking hinges off your doors to get to you? Stop trying to keep me out. Do that to him, not me!”
He stretches his neck, and I frown.
“Ready for lesson two? How to be a gracious host, and be waiting in your bed for me naked? I don’t want you wearing clothes to sleep.”
“Yet, here you are, in my bedroom—fully clothed. And he’s never broken into my home, not once.”
He smirks, and it’s lopsided and devious, like him. “That’s because I’m smarter
I shake my head and choke on my stuttering inhale.
His shift from talking about me in third person to first almost frightens me. My gut tightens.
“That sensitive shithead—calls himself sensitive,” he mumbles, “trying to move in on my girl after I’ve looked for you for ten years and finally found you. God, that fucker’s delusional if he thinks I’ll let him snake his way in between us.” His abs flex as his hips tilt, and he picks up the pace even more. “Well, he can’t fucking have you. You’re mine! This shit is mine !”
I nod and swallow a little.
He grunts louder than a moment ago and with a breathless sound, dying off at the end.
“Mmanama pfuuda,” I mutter.
He smacks my cheek again lightly, then caresses them and slides his hands into my hair, his eyes soft and following his hands.
“But we both know you don’t want him. You’re just teasing that dick—stringing him along so he’ll do your bidding just like you did so long ago when we were kids. Well that stops now. You want me . You want this . And his shriveled up cock doesn’t taste this good, does it?” He halts his hips, and his tip hits the dangling piece of flesh at the back of my throat.
I try to swallow once more, but this time, nothing happens. Saliva pools at the back of my throat, almost drowning me.
He pulls out. “Answer me honestly, and I’ll untie that hand, and you can finish me off—make it up to me for cheating on me with that fucking lawyer.”
I swallow. “I don’t want him,” I whimper. “I never have. I’ve made it abundantly clear—Riot knows I’m not interested.”
He wraps his fingers loosely around my throat and leans in good and close. “That’s not what I asked you. Does. His. Cock. Taste. This. Good?” He reaches down, swipes his fingertip across the flaring tip of his dick and smears his pre-come across my upper lip. “Does he?”
“How the fuck should I know? It grosses me out to even consider being near enough for him to breathe on me,” I say, gritting through my teeth. “I’ve never touched him on my own, on purpose.”
His fingers drift menacingly up and down my throat, barely touching me. “Nor will you ever. These lips belong to me. These hands”—he wrangles my right hand free and then makes sure the left is still secure—“do what I say. They touch my cock, stroke my balls, and when I tell them to, they hit the right keys and tell me what I want to know.”
“This sounds like some perverted form of blackmail,” I tell him, glaring.
“No. Never blackmail. But you’ll share with me because I own you, and you’ll want to give me everything before long.” He groans. “I’ve wanted you for so long, you’re not getting away.”
I snort a laugh. “I must’ve missed the class required for doormat one-oh-one. Christ, Nick.”
“You did. And that’s why I started with lesson one tonight. Sucking it like a girl trying to redeem herself after talking to another man when she refused me access to her bedroom.” He sniffs at my lips and then licks the remnants he smeared of himself onto me. “And you know I need this shit—that I need you . You want me to beg to fuck you, is that it? That’s why you make me practically tear your fucking hinges off your doors to get to you? Stop trying to keep me out. Do that to him, not me!”
He stretches his neck, and I frown.
“Ready for lesson two? How to be a gracious host, and be waiting in your bed for me naked? I don’t want you wearing clothes to sleep.”
“Yet, here you are, in my bedroom—fully clothed. And he’s never broken into my home, not once.”
He smirks, and it’s lopsided and devious, like him. “That’s because I’m smarter
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