Page 694 of One More Kiss
As soon as I wedge the entire thing in my throat, his regal crown slips into the gutter. Ruthless hands dive into my messy hair, fisting the lengths to force himself in that little bit further.
I gag around the overstuffed intrusion, spittle leaking from the corners of my stretched mouth. When I pull back, he restrains my head, locking me in place. Long legs cage me against the wall with his cock so deep, tears stream from my eyes. His hips begin to piston, the art of fucking my face his crude savior.
“That’s it… take it all.” His low baritone rumbles from his mouth in a breath, as if he says the words against his will.
His order drives me wild. Heedful of how much this sinner is seeking refuge in my innocent mouth. I moan with a packed gullet, sending vibrations from me to him. He clutches tighter. Such a sharp grip around my roots gives way to more heady chills. The more I moan, the harder he fucks until my jaw is covered in saliva and I’m blinking tears.
On my knees, I willingly surrender to his manic plunder, getting off on the thrill. Though desperately seeking a friction of my own. The urgency for my release makes me wetter than ever, swollen, and voracious in my pursuit to suck him off.
His mouth contorts to a snarl, his thrusts merciless. As his cock plunges in hard and fast, he fixes me with the sexiest look. Pure white teeth capture his lower lip in the dirtiest way and the filthiest grunt works its way through his throat.
“Get yourself off,” he growls, the order hissing out behind his teeth. “Be a good girl and put your hand between your legs. Touch yourself. I’m going to blow my load down your throat any second.”
The bold woman I’ve become is no longer self-conscious or riddled with shame. She’s empowered and drunk on the idea of sex. I’m swept up in the heat of it all, in the intensity of our fused gaze. His dark eyes drill into mine on a collision course for an explosion.
“Do it,” he barks with a fierceness bordering on a howl.
I obey without delay, fondling myself like I’ve done so many times alone. I’m drenched, my body parts sensitive to the touch, and my jaw aching. Rubbing my clit has me craving the brutality of his thick girth. I crave more. Blindly banishing rights and wrongs. Surrendering to the high.
It doesn’t take long for Tomás to detonate. The savage growl crumbling his self-discipline turns his eyes feral. When he lets go, warm cum erupts in spurts. I writhe on my knees, exhaling a guttural hum when my own orgasm hits with force. My thighs go rigid with the powerful energy bursting inside my core.
When I’m all spent, he pulls his cock free and fists the length to expel the final dregs. A creamy bead proudly remains on the glossy crown until I lap it up.
We both breathe hard, staring at each other in the aftermath. My fingertips reach for my lip in comfort, unsure of what will happen next. He mutters under his breath and takes a notable step towards the vanity.
A part of me wants to be ravaged right here on the floor. The other part hopes he’ll simply kiss me. My horny state revs at a million seconds per minute. I know it’s a foolish wish. A mishmash of toxic confusion where intimacy doesn’t lead to an affinity, or a promise of freedom. I’m just a girl who’s found satisfaction in the wrong man.
He turns on his heels and storms to the sink, methodically foaming his hands with liquid soap. Over and over.
I sit on my haunches, subconsciously tracing my Cupid’s bow, watching Tomás wash his face and blot it dry. Glancing back over his shoulder, he stares at me for a heartbeat and then tosses the towel. “Clean yourself up.” His head rotates, and he glares at his handsome reflection in the mirror. “Thoroughly,” he adds, his voice clipped and to the point.
My limbs go weak from his detached demeanor and seemingly unaffected stroll through the bathroom. Before he exits, he says quietly, “And don’t get the dressing wet.”
I could scream at my captor, beg him to fuck me, and chase his cock for fulfillment, but I’d never reduce myself to those levels. He expects groveling and obedience, so I’ll bite my tongue. I caution myself on how immoral this journey actually is and wait for the opportunity to escape.
My hormones are to blame. They'd taken control of my senses. The female frenzy came alive when his turbulent disposition spoke to me. Now I’m all alone on the bathroom floor, cold, used, and emotionally confused.
Anxiety flips my stomach. How the hell would I get through the night with this impenetrable man?
