Page 25 of Fervent

I couldn’t stand her mouth around my dick, hot and tight and so fuckingperfect, couldn’t stand the way her throat opened for me, sucking down my length until she made continuous gagging noises. Most of all, I couldn’t stand the spasm of pain that tightened her muscles, because while she was enduring the brutal lashings, I was getting off on it.

Her helplessness made me harder, desperate, and fuck, I wanted to explode down her throat, despite the scrape of her teeth.

Cleft grabbed my chin. “Fuckingbeg.”

Shame flared, searing my flesh and heating several layers below. “Please let me come.”

“Still not buying it. Hit the bitch again,” he told Brock.

Another bite of leather on flesh, and Alex’s muffled cries shuddered around my shaft, pulling at the beast in me. I groaned, heaving in air, my heart rate thundering in my chest. I had to stop this. If I came…

Fuck.

What would they do to her then?

“Make your stubborn piece of shit boyfriend beg like he means it!” Cleft shook her head, and she sucked harder.

“Don’t hurt her!”

“Make me believe it, Mason. Last chance.”

Alex and I exchanged a heavy glance, and she didn’t need words to plead. The way her eyes pummeled me said it all. She wanted me to give in and find pleasure in her mouth. Wanted me to end this already.

Ah, fuck. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“Begging me forwhat?” Cleft asked.

“Fucking let me come in her mouth!”

He bobbed her head in rapid thrusts, his fingers fisting her hair, and Brock returned to filming our humiliation. Her mouth gloved me in blessed hell, sucking my cock so deep, I thought she might swallow me whole.

“How bad do you want it?” Cleft asked.

Bad, more than I’d ever wanted it in my life. I gritted my teeth, lips pulled tight, and threw my head back with a long groan. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. A woman’s mouth had never felt so fucking good.

“You don’t have permission.”

Too fucking late. God himself couldn’t stop the eruption. I pumped my seed down her throat, letting out several hoarse cries, limbs rigid from the rush of release. Cleft let go of her hair, and she inched back, her tongue lapping at my tip to catch the final drops.

The ensuing silence was profound yet tenuous, and as Alex lowered to her haunches and hung her head, the disquiet spelled fucking doomsday.

“Sugar, your boyfriend has a defiant streak.”

Keeping my head bowed, I peeked at Rafe, and the tribal tattoo covering the left side of his heaving chest drew my focus. The black lines danced over his abs as he tried to catch his breath from his eventual dive into ecstasy.

My heart wouldn’t stop galloping, and a flush bathed my skin in sweat. I was hot and wet between my thighs. Rafe did that.Wedid that to each other. His release still echoed in my mind, an arousing whisper that infiltrated my system until I wanted to squirm.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. I knew I’d find only shame and self-hate. He hadn’t been capable of holding back, and though that thrilled some sadistic part of me, it would douse him in guilt because Cleft and his men would punish me for it.

But wasn’t that the point? They were doing this to fuck with his head, with both of our heads.

Someone grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me to my feet.

“Leave her alone!” Rafe shouted.

I didn’t bother fighting. There was no point, but beyond that, I refused to give them the satisfaction. Firm fingers turned my head, and I met Brock’s eyes. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up my cheek.

“Stop tasting the bitch and chain her up,” Cleft said.

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