Page 148 of Tell Me Something True

At the same time she lightly, lightly scraped her teeth along his length.

He increased his pace. Was rewarded by another of her sounds, this one a hum that reverberated through his dick. She squeezed his ass, urging him to move faster.

“You take me so good,” he told her, his soft, encouraging words a direct contrast to the way he fucked her mouth with increasingly brutal strokes. “Such a good girl for me.”

She inhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes going the deep, dark blue of a summer sky before a storm. Shifted her legs restlessly, as if trying to ease an ache between them.

He growled like an animal as his focus narrowed to his most basic instincts.

To conquer.

To claim.

To come.

“You like that,” he rumbled. “You like being my good girl.”

Gaze holding his, she nodded, and whatever resolve he’d had disintegrated, turned to ash as a firestorm swept through him.

Curling his free hand around her shoulder, holding her still, he pulled her head back even more with the hand wrapped in her hair and slammed into her. Each stroke harder, faster, and deeper than the one before.

“Deeper,” he muttered, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs, his body trembling with the need for release. “I want to feel it here” —he rubbed his thumb up and down the front of her throat— “I want you to choke on it.”

Her eyes flared and watered but held his, that stormy blue going hazy.

And when he pushed into her mouth even farther, she did choke.

But didn’t pull back.

She dug the nails of her right hand into his left ass cheek, laid her left hand across her own throat, spreading her fingers to accommodate his thumb between her middle and ring fingers.

As if she wanted to feel him there, too.

Control. Gone.

He fucked her mouth like a rutting animal. Taking what she gave him, using her for his own pleasure. Almost as if he was punishing her for her sins.

Or trying to vindicate himself of his.

“Take it, take it, take it,” he chanted, like a man possessed.

He wanted to throw his head back, to shut his eyes and just feel, but he refused to miss a moment of seeing her this way, her face pink with arousal. Her hand on her own throat, her silver rings glinting. Her blown pupils, as if she was getting as much pleasure from this as he was.

“I didn’t mark you well enough,” he growled, his orgasm, building. He slid his hand from her shoulder, laid his palm across her chest, fingers wide, the rapid beat of her heart a frantic drumbeat against his palm. “I should come all over all this smooth, pretty skin. Make you walk out of here wearing my cum for a necklace so everyone will know you’re mine.”

Just the thought of it had him racing toward completion, but when he tried to pull out to make fantasy reality, she grabbed his ass with both hands and held him to her.

Her first refusal.

She trusted him. Enough to let herself be physically vulnerable with him.

Enough to stop him from doing something she didn’t want him to do.

He plunged into her mouth, his movements increasingly frenzied and desperate as he barreled toward his release. Something in the back of his mind told him to slow down. To gentle his movements. To ease back. Warned him that he was being too rough, going at her too hard, taking too much from her.

But then she choked on his dick again and the sound of it, the way she took him so well no matter how hard he went at her had him going even harder. How she looked, flushed pink and so incredibly pleased with herself, as if having his dick in her mouth was some ultimate prize, had him moving faster. How her eyes stayed on his, her hips undulating as if seeking her own relief, had him going deeper.

She trusted him.

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