He lounged there, arms over the back of the couch, wearing that hard expression as he watched the show.
When my jaw started to ache, I grabbed his base and jerked him with my tight fingers, giving me a second to inhale full breaths. My eyes dropped to his base, seeing the way it thickened in my hand like he enjoyed my touch.
“Eyes.”
My eyes flicked back to his, my face a mess with the smeared saliva and tearstained cheeks.
“Don’t make me ask again.” He was the only man in the world who could lose his temper during a blow job. He grabbed me by the neck again and forced me down, ending my break and getting me back to work. Like last time, he shoved me down all the way.
I expected it this time, so I didn’t gag.
“Good.” He let me go.
With an aching jaw and a flat tongue, I went back to work, pushing him deep in my throat as I held him by the base. I quickly learned that he preferred my mouth to my hand, that he enjoyed watching me gasp for breath around his ridiculously big dick. He got off on the struggle because it didn’t just feel good, but it inflated his already enormous ego.
Minutes later, his breathing changed. His calm breaths shortened and became irregular. His tanned skin darkened slightly, a redness entering the skin at his neck and shoulders. He clenched his jaw before he released a quiet moan, his hips starting to move with me so he could fuck me in the mouth.
I knew he was close. I could feel it in the way his dick hardened.
He took a raspy breath before his fingers wrapped around my neck again, this time to steady me.
I knew he was edging himself because he had other plans.
I kept going, this time taking his length at a faster pace.
He didn’t fight me at first, giving a moan as I ate his dick. His breaths were deep and loud, his climax so close. His fingers gripped my throat, and he steadied me.
I pushed his arm off and kept going.
“I know what you’re doing.”
I took his length as deep as I could, almost hitting my gag reflex every time.
His hand gripped my shoulder, but he didn’t stop me. It felt too good. He was too close to the edge. He didn’t stop it in time. He sank back into the couch and thrust his hips, his eyes locked on mine, his stare deepening into one of ownership. “You like sucking my dick, don’t you?”
I kept going, eyes still on his.
“Answer me.”
With a mouth full of dick, I forced out the word best I could. “Yes.”
When he heard my answer, he released with a loud groan, pushing my face down to his base.
It was so much, I had to swallow twice, and even then, I could still taste it. My nails scratched the tops of his thighs, but he didn’t seem to notice the damage. Eyes focused on me, he held me down until he was fully satisfied.
I finally got his dick out of my mouth, a stretch of saliva still attaching us. I licked the corner of my mouth to break it, but it was so thick it was almost indestructible. I severed it with my finger.
He got to his feet even though I was still on the floor in front of him. His dick was semi-hard, still impressive at half-mast. It was right in my face until he pulled up his sweats and hid it away. “You’ll pay for that later.”
EIGHT
CAULDRON
I sat in my study downstairs, looking over the reports Jeremiah just sent over. My home was protected by my private security, but I avoided all paper trails. Never printed a single document. Everything was done electronically, my information protected by a private server and a solid firewall.
The door opened, but I didn’t look up, assuming it was Hugo bringing me something.
It was Camille.
In jeans that stopped just below her belly button and a white collared shirt tied below her tits, she looked like she was ready to go shopping in the village. Her long blond hair was around her shoulders, looking shiny under the light of the chandelier.
I was angry that she had disobeyed me, but it was hard to hold that grudge when the outcome was just as satisfying, nonetheless. Whores were paid to pretend to enjoy you, even through the most uncomfortable acts. That was what I expected from her—but I got something much better.
Authenticity.
She gagged. She couldn’t breathe. Tears burned her eyes then stained her cheeks. Her nails dug into my thighs because it was the only way to vent her discomfort. But she also enjoyed it…just a bit.
I liked that.
It was real.
She took her time making her way into my office, like my stare was the barrel of a loaded rifle. Her arms started at her sides, but she crossed them when she drew near. She glanced at the contents of my desk then at the paintings hanging over the wallpaper.