Page 48 of Sacred Vow
I make quick work of freeing his thick cock with only one hand, and I find him just as ready for me as his son. The only difference is, one holds his composure like a soldier under enemy fire, while the other is struggling for dear life.
Caesar keeps the conversation with Zeph going as I grip both of them at the same time, working them in unison, my fists fluttering up and down their thick shafts as my thumbs roll over their tips, gently squeezing and tormenting them with every brush of my fingers, but that permanent hunger for Caesar rears its ugly head, and as my mouth waters for him, I can’t resist.
I lean in, closing my mouth over his tip before slowly working all the way down to his base, pushing past my gag reflex as my tongue rolls over his velvety skin. Caesar’s hand shifts under the table, gliding from the side of my face and around the back of my head, knotting into my hair just as Zephyr’s had been.
I pick up my pace with both of them, teasing Caesar with my tongue, sucking and tormenting him just as I’d done to Zeph only a moment ago, and while my lips remain focused on his father’s cock, my hand remains focused on him.
I pump him up and down, and the more I push him, the harder he struggles to hold back, and after watching him come so many times over the past week and a half, it becomes abundantly clear that he’s doing everything in his power not to come, but he should know better than that. I have a weakness for watching men crumble, and Zephyr is no different. He’s going to give it to me whether he’s mid-conversation with his father or not.
I shift beneath the table, pulling away from Caesar and clutching his base as I focus on his son, leaning back in and closing my mouth over him once again, feeling the way he trembles beneath my touch.
Caesar’s hand falls over mine around his base, and he slowly takes control, both of our hands working up and down his cock, and as my head bobs up and down over Zeph’s cock, I become entirely mesmerized by Caesar’s movement.
He’s so damn enticing that even while taking his son in my mouth, I want nothing more than to feel him all over me.
My tongue flicks over Zeph’s tip, and as if on cue, his whole body falters, jolting with a deep pleasure, and as I work him right to the back of my throat, Zeph finally lets go, coming hard and shooting his load straight into the back of my mouth like a goddamn rocket.
I suck him dry, taking everything he has to offer as he chats to his father about his classes, giving shitty one-word responses,grunts, and groans. The moment Zeph has finished emptying himself, his body visibly relaxes, and I pull away while listening to the shift in his tone. He’s suddenly able to string longer sentences together.
I laugh to myself, and the second I can, I focus every last ounce of my attention on daddy dearest. He’s delicious, and as he waits patiently for me like the good boy that he is, all that’s left for me to do is reward him.
Sensing I’m ready, his hand falls away and returns to the nape of my neck before twisting up into my hair and taking hold. Then, not wasting a single moment, I close my mouth over him again, every moment with him feeling brand new to the point I barely even notice Zeph behind me, discreetly folding his cock back into his pants before getting up from the table and awkwardly excusing himself. All that matters is the feel of his father on my tongue.
I work him up and down, taking my time.
It’s not like in the club the other night. That was full of ferocity. There was a desperation to prove myself, to make him crumble and claim some kind of control, but this is different. This is about fulfilling the raging need within me. This is about making him feel, about giving him the kind of pleasure he deserves. This is a thank you for every screaming orgasm he’s ever given me.
My tongue traces over the rigid lines of his veins, leading right up to his tip before following them right back down again as I clutch onto his base, my hand gently pulsing as I grip him with my other, working him just the way I know he likes it.
Seconds turn into minutes, and he simply enjoys it, reveling in every pleasurable moment of my lips on his body, but when we hear the familiar sound of Zephyr moving around the house, starting to make his way back here, probably with a much clearer head, Caesar tightens his hold in my hair.
“Alright, hellcat. Give me what I want.”
With pleasure.
A grin rips across my face, and I don’t doubt that he can feel it against his cock, and as the pure need to taste him overwhelms me, I give him everything I have, snapping into action to the point this so perfectly composed man falls victim to my wicked ways within seconds.
“Fuck, hellcat,” he grits, his tone so low I barely hear it.
He sucks a breath through his teeth, and I work more vigorously, giving him everything he deserves and more, and as both hands work him, twisting and squeezing, Caesar crumbles. His hips jolt beneath the table, and he comes hard, shooting hot spurts of cum into the back of my throat, and I eagerly swallow him down, taking every last drop he has to offer.
Power pulses through my veins, and as I continue to swallow him down, an intense feeling of beauty overtakes me. I’ve never felt so radiant, so womanly. I’ve been on my knees for this man, worshiping him, and yet I’m the one who feels like a goddess. How does that happen? If anything, he should feel like a king, yet as I release him and he pushes his chair back to pull me up from the cool floor, he looks at me as though he’s never seen anything so wondrous in his life.
“You amaze me,” he murmurs, pulling me right up on his lap so that I’m straddled over him, his fingers brushing through my hair, but everything pauses as his gaze lands on the massive circular bruise smack-bam in the middle of my forehead. “What the fuck is that? Did somebody put their hands on you?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing a bottle of cherry vodka and a bright pink dildo can’t explain,” I tell him.
“I’m going to need a little more than that.”
“Then you’re in luck. I happen to have video footage of the whole ordeal, but there’s no way I’m about to embarrass myself by showing you that without getting something in return.”
“Oh yeah? And what could you possibly want?”
I bite down on my bottom lip while following the sound of Zephyr moving throughout the house, and when he seems to backtrack and head up the stairs, relief pounds through my veins. “That’s a good question,” I muse. “I was going to suggest another night at Vixen, but something tells me I’ll get that without even needing to ask. So instead, I’ll settle for an IOU.”
Caesar laughs and reluctantly lifts me off him before getting to his feet and fixing his pants just as Zeph had, only he doesn’t bother to be discreet about it. “Smart girl,” he says, taking my chin and lifting it before inspecting my bruised forehead once again. “You need to ice that.”
I roll my eyes, and as he releases me and strides into the kitchen, I can’t help but follow him. “You knew I was there, didn’t you?”
