Page 89 of Something So Strong

My eyes water to the point of dripping down my cheeks, but I wish that he’d let go completely. Push down on my windpipe, slap me again, anything, as long as he’s in front of me and I can see his eyes.

More pre-cum drips down my shaft, and drool trails from my chin to pool in the divot at the base of my neck.

Completely drunk on Jesse’s ability to render me useless, I lose focus and cough—my throat straining around him.

He withdraws his hand.

Thick strings of spit connect his fingers to my lips.

His left hand claims a fistful of the hair on top of my head and jerks me toward him until I’m hunched forward. “I hope you look this good when you choke on my cock.”

I know my eyes are hooded and red, my lips are swollen, my chin and chest are covered in masses of spit, and my jaw is still slack, but I stick my tongue out.

“I’d never have guessed you’d be such a cock slut.”

My eyes brighten with pride and I silently dare him to push me further.

Jesse looks between my mouth and his dick.

I want to claw at his underwear, have him straddle my chest and skull fuck me into next week. But he just looks at me, almost guilty for even considering the exact thing my gaping mouth is telling him I want.

“Not this time.”

Defiantly, I poke my tongue out further.

“Enough.” His voice grows sterner.

My fingers slide up the leg of his boxer briefs—

Jesse’s right hand connects with my cheek, and saliva splashes against his chest. Instant regret is present on his face, but I grin, blow him a kiss, and spit all the thick, bubbly goodness he worked so hard to create all over my cock.

“Fuck.” It’s more of an expression than an actual word at this point, because Jesse drops me. My head bounces against the mattress, and he grabs my dick like making me come will solve the climate crisis. “How are you so damned sexy?”

Is that a rhetorical question?

Will I get hit again if I try to speak, because I think I’d like to?

Either way, I know the answer. And it’s because I’ve never been so enamored, so keen to please, so willing to sign myself over and live in someone’s back pocket.

“You’re not allowed to come until I say you can,” he asserts to the atmospheric sound of his sloppy strokes.

“Y-you.” I cling to the sheets, fighting with myself to hang on. “Y-you, too.” I force out through the closest thing to an out-of-body experience I’ve ever had. I feel like I’m floating, not a care in the world other than to do what I’m told… Because I want to.

I fucking obsessed with you, Lord Jesse Kendrick of wherever the fuck you come from. You are my Prince and I’ll worship you for the rest of my life. Just please don’t leave me.

“Please. I can’t hold on.”

Jesse kneels up and finally pulls his dick out.

My eyes fixate on its dripping end as he pumps us both in time.

I want to taste it.

I want to taste him.

“Please give it to me,” I beg, almost incoherently.

“Why do you think you deserve it after what you put me through?”

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