Ji-hoon was the opposite of Trent in almost every way one can be. I married him when I was just eighteen and he was nearing fifty, at my mother’s behest.
It was the biggest mistake of my life, because while rich, Ji-hoon was far from kind.
Even after stabbing Trent, I feel far safer with him than I ever had with my husband. He has at least six inches on Ji-hoon and easily twice the body mass, yet something tells me that Trent doesn’t rule a woman with his fists.
Trent pulls my hair back and looks down at me in reverence, which is something my husband would never have done. His eyes were always angry, glaring, and expectant.
I was never good enough for him, and he made sure I knew my place.
Trent’s cock is…considerable. So much so that my fingers do not meet when I grip his length. He doesn’t seem to mind, judging by his moans of appreciation.
His head fills my entire mouth, which worries me because if he’s anything like my husband, he will demand I take the entirety of it.
Which I do not believe is possible.
“Fuck me,”Trent grumbles, which is perhaps the only thing he’s said that I understand outside of his name.
That word never means anything good, but with the way he practically purrs it, I think it could have a hidden meaning.
I work his cock, taking him as far back as I can, using my hand on what my mouth cannot reach. His hips shift, anticipating my descent, pressing ever so gently to get as far back into my throat as he can.
And for some unknown reason, I bloom with pride. Never in the six torturous years of marriage had I ever felt joy in delivering pleasure to my husband, but kneeling for this stranger, I feel pleased.
And dare I hope that with this simple act, a boundary will be established? Because while Trent is handsome and seemingly respectful, we can never extend beyond his cock inside my mouth.
Pregnancy during a time like this would be a disaster. I can hardly care for my two boys now. Adding a baby to the mix would not only be negligent, it would mean death. Sure, there’s a good chance I would survive childbirth, but we’d fall apart soon after.
“Suki…”
Hearing Trent utter my name is…startling. I don’t know if it’s due to the gentleness of his tone or because it feels like so much more than a name. Like it could be a prayer.
Like I could mean something to him.
But that’s silly. Trent is just a man happy to get his dick sucked. I assume blowjobs are in short supply, unless he has someone waiting for him somewhere.
The thought needles me with jealousy, which is unexpected. Why should I care who he has waiting for him?
But I do.
Trent tenses. I can tell he’s close, so I quicken my descent, stroking him in tandem with my sucks. With my other hand, I cup his balls, applying gentle pressure.
“Ho-lee-jes-us-fuck-fuck-fuck—”
His excited sounds are followed by a soft shove. I consider pulling off, but instead, I take him in as deep as I can.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ…”
His hand clenches my head as I feel his length grow large as it spasms. A growl escapes his clenched teeth as he unleashes his cum. It coats the back of my throat, filling and overflowing my mouth. It’s like a fountain, and I’m sure it can’t be natural. Ji-hoon’s was but a spoonful whereas Trent’s is an ocean.
I continue to suck, waiting for the spasms to subside. He murmurs soft syllables of appreciation as he gently caresses my cheek.
Ji-hoon had never touched me like that. So softly. He spoke in harsh snaps. Always angry. Sometimes violent.
Trent is grateful, and if I’m being honest, I’m happy to be appreciated. Elated, really. Because it feels so freeing, making me feel alive in a way I never had before.
It was the first time I was ever in control of a sexual situation. First time I initiated. First time I was enjoyed.
And it makes me feel…confused. Like I want more.