Page 64 of Roulette: The Madam

“Argh– Argh–”

My stomach folded. My eyes watered. And, tears fell down my cheeks as I looked up at Israel. Silently pleading for more. Crying for more. Begging for more. Desperately wanting more.

“Big fucking girl,” he grunted, pulling himself from my jaws.

His fingers tightened around my face as he leaned down, looking me square in the eyes. Words failed him, but I understood everything he was saying. Feeling. Thinking. Disgruntled by his delusion, he opened his mouth and a wad of saliva gathered in my mouth.

I clenched my walls. My pussy oozed with the same lustfulness that was heavy on my eyelids, my heart, my head, and my limbs. I desperately wanted Israel inside of me. And not for a little while. I wanted him to lay in it. Fall asleep in it. Wake up in it. Work in it. Nap in it. And, then, fall asleep in it again.

“You’re driving me insane, Roulette.”

He ushered me from the floor to the bed. I turned around, prepared to place my palms against the bed. Israel disregarded my intentions, twisted my body around and pushed me onto the sheets.

“You’re far too pretty for that, love. I want to see your face when I’m fucking you.”

He slid me to the edge of the bed and pushed my legs apart.

“Hold them ankles and don’t let them motherfuckers go,” he insisted.

One at a time, I grabbed my ankles, stretching my body while simultaneously giving him the most incredible view of his life.

“Likeso?”

“Just like that,Madam.”

Hearing Madam fall from his lips with ease, knowing that it didn’t mean the same for him as it meant for everyone else. He was addressing me, a woman, politely and respectfully, although he had every intention of disrespecting me tonight by shoving dick down my throat and down my well. He was addressing me as a woman in a higher position than others. Not as a woman that heads a stable of women, sex workers, and dancers.

Two fingers entered me, turned upward, and began massaging my insides. Israel’s thumb brushed up against my clit, forcing me to rotate my hips.

“Uhhhh—fuc–”

Just as I felt the first wave of my orgasm, he ejected his fingers.

“Fuckkkkk!” I squealed, unhappy with his decision to deprive me.

“Isra–”

“You cum when I am ready for you to cum.”

“Israe–”

“You cum when I am ready for you to cum.”

“Israe– uhhhh?—”

I loosened my grip around my ankle, dropped my right hand, and placed my index and middle fingers on my clit and began rubbing. I was too close. It was too promising. And, waiting for him to approve my instant gratification was completely out of the question.

My disobedience was disappointing. His nostrils flared as he released a sharp breath. He grabbed my right hand, separated my index and middle fingers, and placed them into his mouth. He cleaned them one by one with his tongue, removing any traces of my personal lubrication.

Once he freed them, he leaned over me. His dick pressed against my center. His hand closed around my neck. His lips lowered, forcing my eyes off his and onto the fluffy, naturally plump demons.

“You cum when I’m ready for you to cum. Play with me if you want, Roulette, and I won’t let you cum until sunrise. Understood?”

My gaze lingered, digesting his beauty.

“Understood?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

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