He sucks in a breath, his hand circling the back of my head, stroking my hair. I tense, expecting him to shove his cock down my throat and fuck my mouth. But he doesn’t pull me forward, instead letting me look at him, explore him with my fingers at my own pace. I wrap my fingers around his shaft, sliding them down his thick, hot length. Part of me wants to pull away, to turn and flee. But another part is fascinated. I thumb the thick vein that runs the length of his stiff cock, then run my fingers over the ridge around the head. His skin is velvety smooth, softer than I’d imagined, but beneath it, I can feel the steely muscles straining for relief.
I almost wish he’d be a dick about it, just force me to do what he wants whether or not I want to so I could know that he’s a monster through and through, that there’s no going back from it. It’s hard to deal with his kindness, especially when it’s so undeserved. I’ve been a horrible wife. A horrible person. I hardly gave him the time of day all week, and he’s been nothing but respectful of my need for space. And yeah, okay, he’s kind of a prick sometimes, and he’s cold and haughty, but compared to the other men my father could have given me to?
There is no comparison.
I’ve known a lot of made guys, and if I’m honest, King’s probably one of the best ones I’ve met. Yeah, he’s new and low ranking, but that means he hasn’t had years to become a hardened, heartless brute like a lot of mafia men. I don’t know of a single one who wouldn’t have demanded I fulfill my wifely duties on our wedding night, that’s for damn sure. He could have made me service him every single night of our honeymoon, could have overpowered me physically, forced me into pleasing him, but he didn’t. He had every right to demand that I become his wife in more than name, but he hasn’t crossed the lines that he very well could have.
I recognize that, and if this is what he needs, I’m more than willing to thank him for his patience in this way. I lean in, angling my head to kiss along his shaft from the base to the tip. He’s breathing hard by the time I reach the head, and I feel a swell of pride rise inside me. His cock throbs against my lips, demanding more, and I open my lips and lower my mouth over his salty tip. He lets out a soft groan, his fingers tightening in my hair. I’m not sure what to do next, so I begin to lick and suck gently.
I keep going until my cheeks start to ache from the work. When I slow, King begins to move his hips a little, keeping my rhythm going.
“Let me take over,” he says after a few minutes. “Just relax your throat and keep your teeth off. I won’t hurt you.”
I nod, but when he grips my hair and starts to move my head, I tense up. I wanted to do this because I’m still in control.
He pulls out, his hard cock slick with my saliva, bumping against my cheek as it stands up straight again. King takes my chin and lifts it, his dark eyes searching mine. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb across my wet lower lip. A shiver goes through me, and I press my knees together. “If it gets to be too much, pinch me, and I’ll stop. No questions asked. Okay?”
I have to admit, I have no clue what I’m doing. Obviously, I was doing something wrong. If I let him fuck my mouth, I can see what he likes so I can do better next time. I nod, and he grips his cock and lowers it back to my mouth, pushing it between my lips and over my tongue.
“God, baby, I want to come down this pretty throat,” he purrs, his smooth voice so seductive I don’t care what he’s saying to me. I think he could say he wanted to murder me in that tone, and I’d agree. I wonder how many other girls he’s gotten to kneel for him by using that tone.
Stroking the side of my throat with his fingers, he begins to move my head in rhythm with his hips, rocking them forward and back, his cock sliding deeper with each shallow thrust. My pulse flutters against his fingertips, and a burst of nerves shimmers through me, making me quake. I raise my eyes to his, holding his gaze while he slides his cock deep into my mouth. A tremor goes through me, clenching in my core.
I feel… Powerful. Somehow, even though I’m on my knees just allowing him to do as he pleases, I feel alive and excited and… Sexy. I can imagine myself through his eyes, on my knees at his feet, my mouth open for him to fuck while my eyes hold his, begging for him to have mercy on me as he takes charge. But that’s the key. I’mallowinghim to take control. I see the complete surrender in his eyes, that he’s lost to his lust while I’m still in control of my senses, even as he uses my mouth for his pleasure.
After a minute, I adjust to the new sensations, spreading my knees on the floor and arching my back, taking hold of the base of his cock and adding a little suck with each thrust of his hips. He knows what he’s doing, so I let him do it while I take note of what he likes. It also lets me pay attention to the things I was too absorbed to notice when I was worrying about what I was doing wrong. I cup his balls in my hand, moving them inside his soft skin. He groans quietly and thrusts harder, hitting the back of my mouth, his cock straining against my throat.
Tears spring to my eyes and I gag, pulling back. He slows, stroking the back of my head, but he doesn’t pull out this time.
“Oh, baby, your mouth feels so good,” he says, gliding in and out slowly until I recover. I can taste salt and a musky flavor, and saliva fills my mouth as his soft skin slides against my tongue. I want more. I kneel up higher, wrapping my hands around his thighs and pulling him closer again. I suckle greedily at him, and he moans and pumps deep into my mouth again, his thick cock throbbing as salt spreads over my tongue.
“I’m gonna come,” he says, gripping my hair hard enough to make tears fill my eyes again. “Can you swallow for me,piccola mia?”
I bob my head in a nod, feeling naughty at his blunt words, but in a good way, one I didn’t know I could feel. I inhale, filling myself with the scent of him, noticing the hardness of his muscular thighs as he thrusts deep into my throat. I force my throat not to constrict, fighting the urge to choke as he fucks my mouth hard for a minute, his cock battering my throat. Reaching between his thighs, I cup his balls again, now swollen and hardened, and give them a little squeeze.
He curses quietly, but before I know if that was a good or bad thing, his hips jerk forward and his big hand cups the back of my head. His vein throbs against my lower lip, and the next second, salty cream explodes into my mouth and down my throat. I choke, tears streaming from my eyes, liquid dripping from the corners of my mouth.
“Keep it open for me, baby,” he growls, stroking my hair as his cock pulses more into me, spasms wracking his body every few seconds. He doesn’t move, though, which gives me time to swallow what I can and relax my throat again.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, wiping my tears with his thumb.
I shake my head, swallowing past the ache he left in my bruised throat. I don’t care if I’m a little sore. I feel… Triumphant. He wants me,desiresme, so much, it makes me feel almost high. I may be kneeling at his feet with my mouth around his cock, but I don’t feel degraded. I also don’t feel like I’m trapped, the way I imagined I’d feel after sex. I feel… Free.
At last, he pulls back, gripping the base of his cock and slowly dragging it over my tongue until he reaches my lips. “Suck out those last drops,” he croons, stroking my cheek with the back of his other hand.
A naughty thrill goes through me. I didn’t expect him to be so… Dirty. He’s a mess of contradictions—tender yet nasty-mouthed, considerate yet dominating, gentle but forceful.
My throat aches, but I obey, giving his cock a little suck. He draws a sharp breath, spasms going through his body every few seconds for another minute. I keep going until he draws away. He pulls up his pants and grabs me under the arms, lifting me to my feet on one swift motion.
“My turn,” he says.
“No no no,” I say quickly. “I did—”
I let out a little yelp as he scoops me up. I start to struggle, but he carries me to the bed in a few long strides, lying me down like a bride and sliding on top of me. He gives my mouth a quick kiss before moving to my jaw. Tingles shoot through me when he reaches my ear, but my body is shaking too hard to enjoy what he’s doing. All I can think about is what comes next. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging in.
“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he murmurs into my neck, his voice low and rough. “I want to taste your cunt.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I keep thinking that over and over. Where did I go wrong? I gave him head. I even made him come. How is he still going? Why isn’t he done?