“That’s what you’re here for.”
“Can we talk?”
“Why? We’re not friends.”
I’m stunned by his bluntness, but I suppose on some level most men wished they could be like Gage, but they’re forced to conform to polite society.
Or were.
“I’m sore down there.”
“Then use your mouth.”
I think on his words as I finish my meal, which he graciously allows me to do.
Technically, he’s fulfilling his end of the bargain. I’m protected, fed, and I assume we’ll soon meet up with his group and leave the city. He also gave me an orgasm, which means he’ll be able to punish me…
I wonder if he’ll ever please me again. He seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he gave me three…although one was inevitable.
Finally, I say, “I’ve never given a blow job before.”
“You’ll get good at it with all the practice you’ll get.”
“What if I accidentally hurt you? By biting or something.”
“Then I’ll knock your teeth out and that will never happen again.”
I stare at him, mouth agape.
The corner of his mouth upticks into a smirk. “I’m not really going to do that, but you really are going to suck my cock.”
“Good.”
His brow lifts. “I like a dick-hungry woman.”
“Not the sucking part! That I get to keep my teeth.”
“I know.”
Why am I smiling?
I force a frown.
Fuck—why is my body so confused by this man?
“Over the next few days, while we’re here, I want you naked and ready for me.”
“Why can’t I just get naked whenever you’re ready?”
“Because I like staring at your tits.”
How do I respond to that?
He grabs the back of the chair I’m seated in and pulls it out, scooping me into his arms and sitting me back down on his lap once he’s settled.
“You stole my seat.”
“I reclaimed my seat from a hostile invader.”