Page 17 of Black Sheep

Wide eyes sweep up to meet mine. Her breaths emerge as shaky and hot as I feel. Slowly, she moves closer. Tastes me. The touch is gone almost before it happens, but the trace of pre-cum on her lips sends my temperature soaring higher.

Determination mingles with inexperience on her face as she continues to caress me. “I want to suck it. Please, Axel. Let me?”

Jesus. “Yes,” I groan, dangerously close to the edge.

The bracing breath she takes pushes her plump breasts and tight nipples against the white T-shirt. Unable to help myself, I reach down and brush my knuckles back and forth over one rigid peak. Heat flares up her face, and she squirms deliciously before she closes her mouth over me in a bold move.

The sight of her pink lips enclosing the tip of my cock shoots sensation straight to my balls. A second later, her firm suction has me gripping her hair, holding her in place. Desperate for more. “Fuck, yes, just like that. Christ, don’t stop.”

My head drops as I fight to breathe. Her gaze is pinned on mine, absorbing my every reaction as she quickly acclimatizes to giving her first blowjob. Ever the quick learner, Cleo flicks her tongue over my slit as she sucks, her mouth closing more firmly on me, taking more of my cock.

“Shit, why did I think you wouldn’t be a fucking natural at this?”

She smiles that Delilah smile as, empowered, she works me like an aficionado. Slow, smooth strokes grow longer, faster. Her mouth is almost as tight as her pussy as she takes me deeper, gliding her wicked tongue along my stiff length. Delirium beckons, and my fist tightens in her hair as I plunge into her mouth.

My cock hits the back of her throat, caressing the soft membranes that vibrate pure electricity against my sensitive head. Insanity encroaches. My legs begin to shake. I feel my balls tighten, and I know I’m about to blow.

“Cleo.”

“Hmm…” She releases me long enough to lick me from root to tip before she swallows me again.

Pleasure drowns me. “God, Cleo…”

My groan is deeper than it should be. The tone of a man, not the boy standing in the middle of his childhood bedroom, receiving his first blowjob from the girl he loves.

My eyes fly open. Memory fades, and reality intrudes. I’m alone with my cock gripped tight in my hand. The slide of the gel aids my desperate, helpless pumps, but even with my eyes open, I see her face, feel her mouth around me, sucking harder with every plunge.

I’m at the point of no return, caught in the spiral of arousal I can’t stop even if I want to. I stab at the cold shower button, turning it off and leaving only heat. Steam rises around me, shrouding me in my own erotic hell as I continue to stroke myself. Longer. Harder. Faster. Pre-ejaculate mingles with the gel, making me slicker, reminding me of the deep recesses of her mouth. I slam an open palm against the wall, the knowledge that she can draw such a visceral reaction from me pissing me off. But no amount of anger is enough to stop the motions of my hand or the dirty bliss that beckons.

Weeks of no sex have me on the tightest edge as I fuck my hand with all the finesse of a teenager. I grit my teeth harder but I can’t stop the rough groans that rip through me as my balls turn hard as stone seconds before I erupt. My head drops against the tiles as thick cum shoots from my cock and splatters on the wall. The force of the climax draws further shudders through my body.

Unceasing, I keep up the strokes. Lost in euphoria, I’m not sure how long I stay propped against the wall, caught between the past and the present, hating myself, and hating her even more. Slowly, my spent erection dies, and a semblance of control returns.

By the time I turn off the shower and leave the bathroom, my thoughts are less chaotic than they’ve been for a while. Using Cleo for my unwilling self-pleasuring is a stupid fantasy, but what the hell, I’m no fucking saint. I’ll take that for now.

After dressing, I head to the living room to pour myself a drink. The sound of my buzzer interrupts my mellow self-loathing. I freeze, gritting my teeth while toying with not answering. The buzzer sounds again. I slide my untouched glass of Patrón onto the coffee table and head for the intercom.

“Yes?” I snap.

“Sir, there’s a Miss Widow here to see you.”

If I were in the mood, I would smile at the game the Black Widow plays with my concierge by supplying him with a different name on each, albeit rare, visit. As it is, she’s at risk of pissing me off, first with her clear reluctance to follow my orders in the punishment room and now turning up here unannounced.

“Send her up.” The quicker I deal with her, the sooner I can knuckle down the exact details of how I will deal with Finnan and Cleo.

My already fucked-up sleep pattern notwithstanding, they both need to be dealt with. Quickly and decisively. Especially if my brand of self-prescribed therapy has truly stopped working.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants as I head for the door. My black T-shirt doesn’t cover nearly enough of the ink on my arms but the thought of anyone seeing them doesn’t disturb me enough to waste time covering myself up. Besides, another reason the Black Widow and I work well together is she knows not to ask questions. Or at least she did before the other night.

For a moment, I contemplate whether it’s wise to invite her up here. Despite my satisfactory hand job, my senses are still churning. With sleep out of the question, I crave the next easily attainable distraction.

Long, hard fucking.

The elevator pings its arrival as I toy with adding my manageress to my fuck list.

She steps out, her walk brisk and confident, unlike the practiced sexy swagger she reserves for the patrons of the Punishment Club. She’s back in her usual all-black attire although she’s dressed for the day rather than in her night leathers, and her hair is caught in a ponytail.

I observe her critically, note the firm, supple body beneath the black jeans and silk top. Her waist is trim, her hips and breasts eye-catching enough to tempt any red-blooded male. And yet my cock remains unmoved, my libido still firmly in the grip of a foolish fantasy.

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