Page 80 of Sinning for Santa

That would be so embarrassing.

“Okay. It’s time,” he rasps, and he follows that up by answering the question in my head. “It’s time for me to fuck this beautiful mouth.”

I kinda thought he was already, but I quickly get what he means when he pulls halfway out, and slips back in quickly.

I gag, the noise loud as he revels in the sound. “Fuck yes, Jax. Let me hear you struggle.”

Oh my…. I gag again and again and he starts thrusting in and out of my mouth, my head held in place by the belt, and my hands come to his thighs, ready to push him back because I’m not sure I can do this... but then I see his face.

The way it’s contorted. An expression of pleasure and pain mixed together, and it does something to me.

Wetness rushes between my legs, and I give in to his brutal thrusts, my relaxing muscles accommodating him even more, and I only gag on every third or fourth thrust.

“That’s it. You’re such a good learner, Jaxcen. Such a good filthy Catholic girl.” He thrusts faster, and my gag gurgles alittle, making me fear I’m about to throw up, but he takes that moment to pull back, popping his dick free as he pants.

“Do you like the way I fuck your mouth, little mouse?”

I nod, gasping for air. “Yes.”

His fingers grip my jaw, angling my head so I have to look at him again.

“You’re not repulsed?”

I shake my head.

“What about when I make you puke?” He strokes his thumb over the drool on my chin. “Will you be repulsed then?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

A slow sinister smile tugs at his lips. “Shall we find out?”

He doesn’t let me answer as he guides my head back to his cock and eases back inside my mouth.

I can’t help but love how he watches me. For some reason, his awe makes me feel powerful, even though I’m the one whose mouth is being punished, but I don’t hate it. It barely feels like a punishment, and my heart thrashes at the possibilities of what this man could do to me, and how willing I’d be to let him.

With both hands fisting the belt again, he restarts his assault on my throat, and I remain relaxed, my throat welcoming the brutality for the most part.

I watch him watching me as he thrusts, but then he changes tactics, and instead of thrusting, he releases his belt to drape it over my shoulders, and fists both sides of my head before he controls it, forces my head back and forth so quickly that my gag turns into one long retching gag as my body protests the invasion.

Tears stream from my eyes and my nails dig into his thighs as I push at him, and finally he releases me as I gag so hard, I nearly hurl.

“Stop,” I pant, gasping for air, and his hand fists into my hair before he tugs my head back to look up at him.

“You gonna lose your dinner?” he asks, still wearing a smirk.

“I didn’t eat dinner,” I pant, but I can’t breathe, “so I’d like not to die.”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, and for the first time since he started this punishment with me, I see uncertainty in his eyes.

“No.” I shake my head. “I want you to cum down my throat.”

His eyes darken as a growl rumbles in his chest, and he leans down claiming my lips in a sloppy, drool covered kiss, that doesn’t seem to bother him. His tongue dives in, as if he can taste his precum lining my mouth, and hell, the thought causes flutters deep in my core.

Breaking the kiss aggressively, he fists his cock and guides it back to my lips, where I take him in again.

“Why are you so fucking perfect for my cock, little mouse?”

I’m guessing it’s another rhetorical question since my mouth is stuffed full of his dick.

---