“Now you’ll suck my cock,” he says. “Take your time. Do it nice and slow. I want to feel that mouth for a good long time. You’d do well to get used to this position, because you’ll be here a lot from now on.”
I stare at the ridge in his slacks, swallowing hard. My mouth waters, and I feel the thick pressure between my legs heighten at the thought of taking it out of his pants, seeing it for the first time. Touching it. Tasting his skin.
I reach up with trembling fingers, but King pulls my hair, drawing my head back until I’m looking up at him. “Don’t even think about trying anything funny, my little wife,” he says. “If you want to keep your teeth, you’ll keep them off me. Understood?”
I gulp, my heart leaping into my throat. What made me think I could outwit or outmaneuver or even escape this man? The moment he slid that ring on my finger, he might as well have clamped a bear trap closed on my foot. And this is just the inevitable conclusion, the culmination of all my bratty behavior.
I knew this was coming if I kept going, but I did it anyway. I knew he’d put his foot down, that he’d lay down the law and force me to do his bidding. Maybe he was right on our honeymoon. Maybe I always wanted him to. Maybe that’s why I didn’t fight harder tonight, why I don’t stand up and walk out of the room right now. Yes, I’m scared of what he’d do. But part of me wants to know, even now, if I could push him further, if I could get him to do more.
When I reach up and unbutton his pants, I feel my heart racing with not just fear but anticipation. I slowly ease down the zipper while King stands over me, tall and proud, looking down at me like I’m a whore, a servant whose only job is to bring him pleasure. And I want to.
I want the shame that burns in my cheeks, the overwhelming thudding in my chest that makes me lightheaded, the ache between my thighs. I reach into his pants, my fingers shaking, tentative. I don’t know how to do this. All I know is that I have to be careful, to make it good. As ridiculous as it is, I want to be good. I don’t even want to do this, and yet, I want him to think I’m good. Which is ridiculous, since I’ve never done it before. But no one wants to be bad atthis.
I shift on my knees and glance up at him. He’s watching me, but I can’t read his expression. I can’t tell if he’s still angry, if this is still a punishment. I only know it’s a punishment I deserve, one I worked hard to earn.
I take a deep breath and run a finger along the ridge of his erection, tracing the outline of it through his boxers. I gulp, suddenly feeling lightheaded with terror. His cock is hard and thick, and as I follow it down to the base, it seems to go on forever.
My throat constricts, and I start to rise, but King’s fingers are still gripping my hair, and he won’t allow it. “What’s the problem?” he growls.
“I—I can’t,” I admit, my eyes aching with unshed tears. “It’s too big.”
“You’ll get used to it,” King says, of course having no mercy for me, for the fears of a dumb virgin.
I lower my face so he won’t see, blinking back the tears that blur my vision. Without another word of protest, I pull his cock free of his boxers. Biting my lip, I stifle a gasp. I’ve never seen one in real life, never touched one. I’ve only seen the ones in porn clips Lizzie Salvatore found on the internet and sent when I admitted that. In person, it looks huge. All I can think is, how the hell is this enormous thing going to fit inside my tiny opening?
I’m grateful he’s only asking for my mouth. I lean forward, sliding the thick head in. It throbs against my trembling lips, as hot as an animal and just as savage. Tears blur my eyes as I push it further back, trying to remember all the things Lizzie told me about sucking dick. I run my tongue over the head, marveling at how soft his skin is, softer than I imagined it would be. Something warm and salty spreads over my tongue, and I start to draw back, wondering if he’s already about to cum.
“Go on,carina,” he says, his voice low and husky, his hand cradling the back of my head instead of gripping my hair now. “Just like that.”
I glance up at King and find his eyes fixed on me with such heat, such lust, it makes my core quiver. My gaze moves down the sculpted, solid muscle of his lean body, down to the V of muscle that leads to where my mouth is. Veins bulge in the skin above his cock, rough and masculine despite his impeccable grooming.
I push away a sharp stab of jealousy when I see how neatly he’s kept himself trimmed. Who is he keeping himself fixed up for? We’ve been married a month, engaged for six before that. Of course he hasn’t been celibate all that time. I hate that I even care, that I wonder if he’s been with women since he told me he wouldn’t. But I told him to take a mistress, and I can’t expect him to wait forever just because I’m fucked up.
I focus on the task at hand, shoving all other thoughts away. His hair is trimmed short, but just enough not to be prickly. It’s soft against my hand as I grip his cock, sliding it deeper into my mouth, feeling the delicious way my mouth stretches to fit him. He gives a little moan, stroking my hair, and pleasure coils through me. I’m doing a good job.
And as I continue, I feel heat pulsing inside me when another little burst of salty liquid coats my tongue. Now that I’ve stopped fighting it, accepted that it’s happening and I can’t stop it, I let myself go. I let myself enjoy the impressive size of my husband, of my first cock. I want to explore it. My mouth waters as I lick and suck, running my tongue around it like an ice cream cone, sucking it deep into my throat, kissing the tip and along the length of his shaft.
When my jaw tires, I sit back on my heels. “I don’t think I can do more,” I admit.
King looks down at me with cold eyes. “Did you cum?”
“No.”
“When you touched yourself, did you cum?”
“Yeah, but…”
“If you can make yourself cum, you can make me cum.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I mutter.
King’s eyes rake over my naked body, and I shiver. “I make you cum,” he says. “No one else. Not even you. I told you that, and you disobeyed me. So now you’ll make me cum. If you can’t do it with your mouth, then do it with your cunt.”
I shake my head, my heart racing. “No, I’ll try again.”
He takes my hair in his hand again, gripping the rope of dark strands behind me. “On your hands and knees,” he says, his voice hard. “I want to watch your cunt in the mirror while I fuck your mouth.”
I balk at the obscenity of his words, but he drags down on my hair, and I have to drop to the floor as he asked. He shifts us so he can watch me in the mirror, then lowers his cock to my mouth.