I observe the hitch in his breathing and swipe my thumb through the precum formed at the tip. Lifting my mask, I lick it off while tipping his chin up with the flat end of the hilt. His cobalt eyes appear almost black, the blue swallowed whole by his blown pupils.
“Kneel.” Swiping more precum from the crown, I smear his lips, resisting the urge to sink my teeth into the soft flesh. My dick has its own heartbeat as I watch him slowly lower himself to the damp ground.
I reach out a hand and grab him by the throat. His pulse thunders beneath my punishing grip as he stares up at me. A small part of me wishes he would put up a fight, but he looks damn delicious at my mercy beneath a canopy of leaves and gnarly branches, which crawl across the sky overhead like a roadmap of veins. Moonlight barely manages to stream through, its silvery hue appearing ghostly.
“Next time your phone dies, I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”
Cole’s throat jumps on a swallow, and I tighten my hold and then unzip my jeans with the hand holding the knife. My fingers drop by my side, and I jerk my chin. “Get my cock out.”
Cole wastes no time pulling my jeans down to reveal my aching dick. The moment it bobs free, he wets his lips and stares at the angry veins and weeping head with so much longing, it’s by some fucking miracle I manage to resist the urge to ram it down his throat.
My husband has always had a natural submissive streak in him, even before he admitted to his feelings for me, and it gets me so hard every damn time. He flicks his eyes up and watches me drag my tongue through the blood on the knife’s flat end. I make sure to leave some on my chin, knowing how carnal it makes Cole when I look monstrous.
Closing my hand over the blade, I drag it across my palm and form a tight fist. Blood soon drips to the ground.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Cole shivers visibly when I fist my dick.
Stroking in long pulls from root to tip, I use the knife to shift some of his dark hair away from his brow. “Show me how much you want your husband’s dick. What a needy slut you are.” I release my cock and tilt my head to the side. Patience has never been my strongest virtue.
He grabs me by the hips and sucks on the head—a move that drives me insane because it’s not enough. I’m not happy unless my crown is smashing against his damn tonsils. He knows it, which is why he’s being a brat now.
I entertain his games for all of two seconds, then say, “Unless you want it to hurt when I take your ass, I suggest you lick it clean of blood. Get it nice and wet.”
Quiet chuckles rumble through his chest at the sound of the barely veiled frustration in my voice, and he takes me deeper, staring up at me as he slowly sinks lower on my cock.
“Shit,” I grunt, fisting his matted hair with my bloodied hand. “You’re so fucking hot on your knees with my dick in your mouth.”
His tongue swirls, and his cheeks hollow. This is what it feels like to have one’s soul sucked from the body. Shivers rush through me, and I grit my teeth against the blinding pleasure that threatens to confiscate my control.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back, my hips stuttering.
Cole swallows around my dick and slides his hand from my hip. My breath hitches when he pushes a single finger against my back hole, breaching the tight entrance.
It’s all it takes. After all these years, my husband knows how to play me like an instrument.
I pull out and yank his head back to bare his neck. He hisses at the sharp hold I keep on his hair, but I don’t ease up. If he can be a fucking brat, he can sure as hell take a little pain while I jerk my dick in front of his face.
With his hands fisted at his sides, he stares up at me. Cole has expressive eyes.
Eyes that goad me to give him my worst.
Fuck…
Cum erupts from my dick, and I clamp my teeth together, quivering from the strength of the orgasm. It goes on forever. At least that’s what it feels like. I struggle to stay upright.
Strings of cum rain over Cole’s face while I hold him prisoner with my death grip on his hair. There’s something inherently carnal about seeing him covered in my release.
Shoving him away, panting hard, I run a hand through my sweaty hair, almost forgetting the mask I’m still wearing. I circle a finger through the air. “Turn around.”
Cole obediently shuffles until he’s facing away from me, and I fist his dark hair. He barely manages to suppress a sharp hiss when I pull on the strands. I’m not gentle. Hurting him turns us both on.
My spent dick is already thinking about another round, so I give it a helping hand, stroking the thickening length while pulling and tugging on Cole’s hair. He tries hard to keep his pathetic little whimpers under control, but fails miserably. Pain has always been his Achilles heel—the one thing that will make him putty in my hands.
Releasing him, I toss the knife on the forest floor, then pull the belt from the loops, ensuring he can hear the seductive slide and clank of the belt, and then I secure it around his neck before slowly lowering myself to my knees behind him.
“Do you want my cock?”
