Page 107 of The Puppeteer and the Poisoned Pawn

“Aren’t you pretty when you’re offering yourself to me like this?”

My head perks up at the sensual accent. The smooth curve of his words. The sultry ease of his tone.

“Greystone?”

A low, satisfied hum leaves his throat.

I try to sit up, but Greystone’s hands keep me still.

“He would have been too rough with you.” Serious. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him with this humorless tone. This deep ring of concern. He traces a finger down my spine.

“But I, on the other hand, am a very patient man,” he drawls, flicking my clit and pressing on my tight hole at the same time. I lean into him, springing back to life with that ache building between my legs. I squirm and grind the air to try and alleviate it.

He laughs darkly, massaging my closed entrance until I’m a writhing animal, pressing myself into his groin. He takes his hand away from my clit to steady me by my hip, angling me to arch higher for him.

But the throb grows in my clit, and I reach my hand down to touch it, to take away the maddening urge to pull down his pants and spear myself with his cock.

“Don’t touch yourself, sweetheart,” he says, an amused smile coloring his voice. “I want you needy for me when I decide it’s time to open you up.”

I groan in protest. But it’s short lived. Greystone sucks the air from my lungs as he bends down, licking my ass slowly. An intimate swipe of his tongue. I gasp at the jolt of electricity shooting up my back and vibrating down my thighs.

I’m boneless as he continues to devour that part of me, his tongue fluid and intentional. And I sound like I’m dying. Actually experiencing a slow, blissful death. After he’s done, a finger coaxes its way inside of me, slipping into the wet entrance that has loosened drastically due to his mouth.

“Please.” I don’t know what I’m begging for, but this pounding sensation in my lower half is paralyzing. I need him.

He breathes as another finger works its way in, and I drop my head at the unexpected tightness.

“Please what? Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His fingers pause.

“Please… give me your cock.”

Greystone takes my clit between two fingers, playing with it teasingly.

I blow out a frustrated breath, hunger spearing through my core. Insatiable. Delicious. But also unnerving because I’m so buzzed on this high, so blind with craving that I would quite literally do anything to please him in hopes that he will take care of these ravenous compulsions.

“That depends. Are you going to be a good girl for me?” His hardness thrusts against my apex, thick and long.

I whimper in response.

“Is that a yes? Be a good little girl and use your words.”

“Yes!” The word half explodes out of my mouth.

Greystone strokes the side of my face delicately like he’s rewarding a pet for good behavior. A starved, desperate feeling washes over me. A frantic need to feel more of his touch. I lean into his caress, pushing the side of my face into his calloused hand like a very good, very deserving pet.

“Hmm,” he coos, caressing my hair as I pant and nuzzle in as close as I can. “What a good girl you are.”

I nod, suddenly overtaken by the insidious yearning to earn his approval, to make him satisfied with my eager obedience.

“Will you do whatever I say?” His fingers twist inside of me. I bow my head, nodding and huffing like a wild beast ready to be tamed. “Let’s start with the head of my cock. If you’re still behaving, I’ll think about giving you more. Do you understand?”

I make a movement with my head. Not a nod, but a bobbing motion followed by an impatient whine.

Greystone lowers to his knees in front of me, leveling his standing cock with my chin. “Open,” he says, guiding my mouth to split apart with the pad of his thumb. “You’re going to get my head nice and wet.”

I do as he says with excitement buzzing through my body, making my muscles quiver with anticipation. The tip of his dick slides over my bottom lip but doesn’t go any farther. He’s teasing me. Tempting me with only a piece of him to build my desperation.

I do all I can with what I’m given. My tongue rolls over the bead of his precum, lathering it over his soft skin. I lick and lap like it’s the last bit of water I’ll ever have. He hisses, then pets the top of my head lovingly.

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