Page 39 of Insatiable Hunger

“You’re so polite when you want to be,” he murmurs with a grin.

Zeke pushes his thumb past my lips. Sucking on it, I moan, so far beyond horny, it’s not even funny.

“Safe word?” he asks, and my body lights the fuck up.

“Coconut.”

Shaking his head, his hand rears back, connecting with the side of my face. There’s force behind it, but barely.

I roll my eyes, peering up at him. “Oh, come on, Zekey,” I mutter, my tone dripping with annoyance. “My grandma can hit better than that. Hit me like you fucking mean it.”

Baring his teeth, he fists my hair again, holding my head in place as his palm cracks down on the meaty flesh of my cheek, the ring on his finger heightens the sting of the hit. Tears spring to my eyes as a warmth spreads through my face. My cock has never been harder. I press the heel of my hand into my groin, needing some sort of friction. Glancing up at him, he’s watching me with a primal sort of hunger. Like he wants todevourme.

“Please,” I beg.

“Please, what?”

“Please let me suck you.” My voice comes out small. Submissive. The desperation melting off my tone causes my face to heat. But I want this. Need it. I need to have him right now. Need to taste him. Consume him.

Watching me for a moment, studying me, he finally nods. “Okay, little slut. Open up and take it.”

Like before, I only take the tip at first. Sucking it, swirling my tongue around teasingly, slipping it beneath the foreskin, before sinking deeper, filling up my mouth with all of him. He tastes so fucking good and smells even better. I can’t get enough.

My hand comes up, gripping him at the base while also applying light pressure to his balls. Head bobbing up and down, I find a nice rhythm, working him over and watching him slowly but surely shatter above me.

Zeke’s unphased, stone-cold exterior is going up in flames. Demolishing right before my eyes, and fuck, is it a sight to see. His teeth bite into his full bottom lip, brows knitting together, as his hooded black eyes stay locked on me. His right hand continues to thread through my hair, almost petting, as he gazes down at me. The act is entirely too intimate.

“Pull yourself out,” he orders me. “Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you enjoy pleasing me.”

Don’t have to tell me twice.

His accent comes out thicker with his demand. It feeds my flames, making my hands tremble with need.

Fumbling with my pants, so turned on, I can barely function, I finally get them down and free myself, wrapping a firm hand around my length. I groan around him and nearly pass out when his eyes roll back and his hips jerk, causing me to take him deeper.

Tears well in my eyes as I relax my throat and work against my gag reflex. When a single tear falls, he swipes it away with his thumb, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it off.

“Look at you,” Zeke rasps. “You’re a fucking mess. Crying, drooling. You got yourself on the verge of exploding already, don’t you?”

Unable to answer with the massive dick in my mouth, I nod, a whimper sounding around him.

He laughs darkly, a sinister sound, and a chill racks down my spine as goosebumps bloom over every inch of flesh. “Such a needy, desperate slut, aren’t you?”

Pulling himself out of my mouth, he strokes his length, smearing his pre-cum on my lips. When I lick it away instantly, groaning as the flavor erupts on my tastebuds, he smirks.

“I still don’t believe you deserve this.” His fist latches onto my hair again, pulling hard enough to sting as he forces me to look up at him while he pumps himself. “Tell me you don’t deserve this. I want to hear you say it.”

I’m right on the brink of my release, walking dangerously close to the edge, and everything he says pushes me closer and closer. He’s such an asshole, but I can’t get enough.

Slamming my eyes shut, I release my cock, so I don’t blow too soon. “I don’t deserve it!” Peeling my eyes open, I glance up at him, strong arm working himself over, giving himself what he needs. “I don’t deserve it,” I whisper for a second time.

“Such a good boy when you actually listen.” His tone is so patronizing, I should be mortified. “Do you want my cum, my little slut?”

I know he’s getting close. His voice is cracking, and his movements are becoming jerky. Nodding feverishly, I say, “Yes, please.”

“Beg for it,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Beg me to paint this pretty little face of yours with my cum.

Oh, good God.“Please… please, daddy, give me your cum.” My words come out frantic, but I’m too far gone to care.

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