Page 47 of The Demigod

I dipped my head, teasing my tongue over the head, lapping up his salty taste.

But the position was frustratingly difficult.

Feeling the same, Daemon suddenly got to my feet, his head on the back of my neck, making me go up onto my knees in front of him.

“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he demanded, his thumb running along my lower lip.

There was no shame in me then, not an ounce of self-control left.

My lips fell open like he wanted.

“You want this, don’t you?” he asked, fisting his cock and tapping it against my lower lip.

A low moan was the only answer I gave. “You gonna take me deep?” he asked.

I gave him a tight nod.

Then his cock was in my mouth as his hand pressed on the back of my neck, making me take him past the point of comfort, my gag reflex engaging, making me swallow it back as the head of him hit the back of my throat.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head thrown back as he took a deep breath. “That’s my good girl,” he said, his gaze cutting to mine. “You look so pretty with my cock deep in your throat.”

A whimper escaped me again.

That was what had him losing control.

His hands were on both sides of my neck, holding me in place as he fucked my mouth, his thrusts getting harder and faster with each passing moment.

I should have been disgusted, horrified by his roughness, at how he was taking what he wanted, but my sex was aching, my wetness slipping down my thighs.

My hands sank into his ass as he thrust faster still.

Then suddenly, when I was sure he was going to come down my throat, surprising me with how much I wanted that, he pulled away, leaving me panting and confused.

Until, suddenly, his hands grabbed me under my knees and flipped me onto my back.

Before I could catch my breath, he was over me, pressing into me, his firm lines to my softer ones.

My arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling his welcome warmth closer as my hips shifted until I felt his cock press against my cleft.

“Your pussy is so wet for me,” he murmured, his lips against my neck, creating little sparks of need.

“Daemon, please,” I whimpered, rocking myself against his length, the need a clawing thing.

“You sound so good begging for my cock,” he said, teeth nipping my earlobe.

His hips shifted, the head of him pressed against me.

Then, with one thrust, he took every inch of me. My back arched as my moan ripped from deep in my chest.

“Fuck,” Daemon groaned, pressing up to look down at me, his cock settled impossibly deep.

My hips rocked side to side, restless, aching for friction.

Then he was giving it to me, driving slow and deep, giving my body time to adjust to the stretch.

Then, as my nails raked down his back, as my hips rose to meet his thrusts, he moved faster, harder.

My cries were damn near screams as he drove me right to that edge, then sent me shooting over.

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