Page 43 of Wicked Dreams

A caress if he was delusional and I was dead.

He withdraws and does it again.

This isn’t me giving him a blow job—he’s fucking my face. He finally hits deep enough that my nose touches his pelvis. His skin there is smooth. The pubic hair he should have has been shaved away.

And he keeps me there, his hold on the back of my head unyielding, until white spots flicker in front of my eyes and my grasp on his thighs loosens.

Only then does he continue. On and on, his movements getting jerkier and more frantic. I barely remember to suck, my cheeks hollowing, when he gives me room to breathe. My nostrils flare, greedily gulping down air when I get a chance.

Suddenly, he pauses. Pulls out entirely. A strand of my saliva connects my lower lip to his cock.

A second later, someone knocks on my door. “Just saying goodnight, Margo,” Lenora calls. “Sleep well.”

Caleb’s eyebrow rises at my silence.

I lick my lips. I’m not sure my voice will even work, but I call back a throaty, “Goodnight.”

He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, forcing my mouth open again, and… well… resumes.

It’s clinical on my side. I don’t much think about his fierce expression, or how his grip went soft in my hair for a split second. It’s back to tight, pulling at my scalp, directing my face and head in a way that suits him.

My mind clicks over into some sort of numb analysis. What I’m doing—not much—and what he’s doing. He’s taken over, which shouldn’t surprise me. It doesn’t surprise me.

Nothing surprises me right now.

Except when he finally stops, sitting heavy on my tongue, and it… erupts.

I’m not prepared for his cum to fill my mouth. I choke on it, even when he pushes back deeper. I can’t escape it, not when it hits the back of my throat. I either suffocate or swallow, and instinct kicks in. My bruised throat works around him.

He pulls out of my mouth, and I sag backward. I wipe his cum from my lips with the back of my hand. I can’t even register the taste—besidesnot great. Who likes this kind of thing?

Not me.

He turns away, leaving me to pant for breath on the floor by the door. After a long minute, I hoist myself up and go for the water. I chug half of it, then force myself to set it down.

My scalp aches where he tugged my hair. My throat hurts from the sheer force…

It took him a long time to come. That must mean I’m not good, right? Like, a great blow job would’ve had him coming way faster.

Pleased with my terrible attempt, I sit on my bed with a leg folded under me.

“Well,” I say softly, “I’m sorry to disappoint?—”

His laugh kills the words on my lips. When he faces me, I get a better look at his chest.

It’s all muscle, which is so unfair. His abdomen flexes, and he eyes me with renewed interest.

“Disappoint?” he echoes. “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to ravage your mouth like that. How am I supposed to let you go now?”

Well… that’s not good.

Chapter 9

Margo

Caleb

When you wear that skirt, I’m tempted to haul you into a supply closet and taste you again. But this time, with my face between your legs instead of my fingers.

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