Page 141 of Falling Offsides

My cry rams back down my throat as my mouth threatens to rip open at the intrusion.

“Swallow.” I do. I have no choice as he grips my throat and slams deeper, ordering, “keep fucking swallowing.”

My eyes water as I struggle to accommodate his size, my throat working desperately around him. Every muscle in my body tenses with the effort, but I don't pull back. I want this. I want him to use me like this.

“That's it,” Auguste growls, his voice strained. “Take all of me.”

His fingers tighten in my hair, holding me in place as he rocks his hips, setting a rhythm that leaves me gasping between thrusts. The raw abandon in his eyes makes something wild unfurl inside me. I'm not just letting him use me, I'm reveling in it.

I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder, and he curses under his breath. “Fuck, Snow. Your mouth…”

My hands grip his thighs for balance, nails digging into the firm muscle beneath his slacks. I'm lightheaded, drunk on the taste of him.

“So fucking good.”

Auguste pulls back, shallowing in and out, and I swirl my tongue around the ridge of his tip. Using my teeth to stop him from pulling out of my mouth.

I gave him what he wanted. I begged. Swallowed him down until I choked around his fat cock. Until I couldn’t breathe.

Now, I want to taste him. His need for me. His undoing.

“Want my cum, Princess?” he taunts, voice so taut that it sounds more like a begrudging whimper when I suck him deeper, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his length with the flat of my tongue.

“Mhmmm…” I moan around him.

My vision is blurry. Eyes stinging from my mascara stained tears.

“Fuck,” the curse is a feral growl. “Fuck…”

Rough fingers push into my mouth as he thickens between my lips. Savagely, his other hand twists in my hair pulling me off him brusquely as the first spurt of his cum coats my tongue.

I swallow greedily. Every single drop that fills my mouth as he comes on my lips, my chin… all over my face while he fucks his fist mercilessly.

The guttural groan that tears from his throat sends shivers racing down my spine. His cum is hot and thick on my skin, marking me as thoroughly as the bruises blooming on my thighs.

“Look at you,” Auguste pants, his chest heaving. “Fucking perfect.”

His thumb smears his release across my bottom lip before pushinginto my mouth. I suck it clean, holding his stare. His pupils are blown so wide the green is just a thin ring around black pools of want.

“You're filthy,” he whispers, almost reverently. “My filthy little brat.”

I'm drunk on his praise, my body humming with need as he hauls me to my feet. My legs are unsteady, knees aching from the hardwood floor, but Auguste's grip is iron-strong while he steadies me.

“Take it off,” he commands, his hand finding the zipper of my dress and yanking it down with a force that makes me gasp. “I want to see all of you.”

The fabric pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lace thong and heels. His eyes rake over me with a hunger I feel in my bones. They linger on the marks he left on my thighs earlier.

“Fucking beautiful,” Auguste murmurs, tracing a finger over one of the darker bruises. “Marked up just for me.”

I shiver under his touch, my nipples hardening in the cool air. A wicked smile plays on his lips as he circles one peak with his thumb and I gasp at the all-body shiver that wracks through me at the sensation.

As I jut my chest out at him for more, he hauls me into him. My skin meets his, hot, sweaty…

All thought leaves my mind when his tongue licks up one side of my face with a savoring groan.

“My mess,” he says, voice low and possessive. “My mark all over you.”

His tongue traces the outline of my jaw, cleaning his release from my skin with each languid stroke.

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