Page 52 of Obey

“Are you wet for me?”

“Yes, s-s-sir.” Without question. I’m soaked.

“I’m going to put cream on your body now, okay?” Then a bag shakes, plastic crinkles and something hard rattles inside. “Then I’m going to eat these M&M’s off your body before I make you scream my name so fucking loudly everyone’s going to know I’m making you come for me in this room. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Wow. It’s not quite ticking offDirty talk, but it’s on its way. How can he sound so encouraging, so soft and warm, and also so dirty? It does things to my body I shouldn’t be proud of.

“I have a packet of Pop Rocks we can try if you like the cream and M&Ms.”

I don’t have time to ponder how Pop Rocks might feel against my skin before something cold lands on my nipples, and I wiggle.

He drops a kiss on my lips. “Stay still, please, Half-Pint. My appetite is voracious. Can I touch that soaking wet pussy of yours?”

When I nod but don’t answer, his fingers barely skim my pubic hair. “Out loud, Talia.”

“Yes, sir. Please. Please touch me.”

There’s no warm up, no soft touch, he rams a couple fingers inside me and curls them so they press hard against my G-spot, knocking my breath away yet again. The urge to rock my hips is overwhelming, but he asked me not to move.

Muscles straining with the need to press ahead and charge toward the climax, I try to focus on the sensations he’s making me feel other than a bone-deep frustration and longing.

Another dollop of cold cream lands under my belly button toward my pelvic bone as he withdraws his hand. The clink of M&Ms echoes in the quiet before the sound of fabric hitting the floor meets my ears. Hopefully he’s getting naked. I’ve decided I need him to be naked too.

When he moves over the top of me, caging me but not smooshing the cream, something inside me eases. He strokes my face, my upper arm, my forearm, brushes his thumb over my lips.

I’ve read about this one. I let my mouth fall open, and his thumb finds its way inside. He waits, thumb resting on my tongue, and I don’t move, I don’t make a sound, all I do is breathe.

It’s an age before he moves again, and he moves his thumb to the back of my tongue so I can’t swallow, but not far enough that I gag. Before long, saliva pools in my mouth and trickles down my cheeks.

He licks it off me. “Such a good fucking girl, Talia. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

The warmth between my legs blooms so much I can’t breathe. When he shifts down my body, hope shoots up to an eleven on a scale of one to ten. When his tongue meets the cream on my nipple, a soft moan escapes me. The cream is cool, his tongue is warm, and the way he caresses the sensitive tip of my breast with his tongue makes me even wetter.

He repeats the process for the other side, then moves down toward my belly button, and by the time he’s licked the line of dessert off my pubic bone, my body’s trembling with the need to wiggle, writhe, move so he goes where I need him to go.

Blood’s simmering, my crotch is so warm he could probably melt those M&Ms easily, crispy shell and all.

He rocks back on his heels, goes quiet for a moment before smacking his lips. When he leans back over my body, he places astrawberry in my mouth. I love strawberries. But I’ve never paid attention to how sweet, how juicy, how decadent they can be. When I’m done chewing and swallow, he kisses me so deeply my toes tingle.

It’s controlling, consuming, and full of emotion. He can deny it if he wants but he’s enticed by me. And that growing hardness pressing against my body tells me he wants me every bit as badly as I want him.

“Such an amazing mouth and all tied up. The temptation to stick my cock in there and make you suck me until I cover your tits in my cum is overwhelming.”

Nothing about that sentence doesn’t sound hot to me. So I drop my mouth open.

“Fuck. Such a fucking eager submissive, aren’t you, baby girl?”

The more he calls me baby girl, the more I want to answer with Daddy. The more he says it, the warmer and more right it feels in every part of my body. But I don’t want to say it. I don’t want to offend him, or upset him, or make him angry.

When his thighs clamp against my arms, and his peen lands on my lower lip, the urge to touch myself burns my skin. He doesn’t let me suck him for long, enough to take the edge off, at least for me.

“Nope.” He withdraws, and my mouth pops. “This isn’t about me. Though my balls are ready to shoot their load all over that cunt of yours, Half-Pint.”

I always thought the C-word would be too far for me. Even in the books I read, it makes me cringe. But there’s nothing that could come out of Jagger’s mouth I wouldn’t love to hear, that wouldn’t make me wet, and an aching ball of need.

“Pop Rocks?”

“Please. I’m curious.”

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