Page 20 of After Dark
Worse, she could imagine why Arlo might think that too.
Josette could hear Arlo murmuring instructions to that poor girl beside her. She’d had a little too much time to wonder what on earth Frederick was doing with such a green submissive, while the men stood just far enough away so that she couldn’tquitehear what they were saying. Only the rumble of voices.
All part of the game, she knew—but that didn’t make it any less effective. Waiting built anticipation. Every time. Even if she knew that was what they wanted.
Now, with Frederick’s cock thrusting in and out of her mouth, she didn’t have her eyes closed entirely, though there were tears blurring her vision. Even so, she could see Arlo, and it was ridiculously hot to watch him hold another woman’s head the way he did hers, and guide that woman into taking him deep.
She had tried so hard, out there, to pretend that she was thesort of woman who would never, ever find something like this explosively arousing. She had tried to imagine explaining the things she liked to anyone who didn’t partake of them themselves, and had decided it wasn’t worth it. Not even in that Raleigh sex club, where she’d been honest and had attracted doms who had bored her and dommes who had been extreme enough for her, but could never get her off the way a man could.
She had despaired of the relentless heteronormativity of her cunt, but that hadn’t changed anything.
But maybe none of that mattered. What mattered was this.
Frederick Hill’s enormous and pitiless cock in her throat, maintaining his pace and his pressure like he could do it forever — and he probably could. But what mattered were the sounds Arlo made, because then she could feel as if he was the one holding her in this awkward position while he took what he wanted.
And there was always this part first. When she could feel every part of herself—all the different pieces, everything that hurt and was uncomfortable, all the thoughts and worries and concerns. All the wonderingwhy,all the fingers she pointed at herself, all the things she was afraid her desire for moments like this made her.
First it was all that, noisy and chaotic.
And then, with Arlo right there—again, at last—and the sound of him taking his own pleasure so fully while the ruthless, formidable Frederick with that cock like granite kept fucking her like he was a machine, she felt herself let go.
It was always unpredictable, how long it took to get there.
But when she did, it was like she simplyglowed. And allthese things became a part of that same glow. Everything in her was quiet, and at peace.
Her body was a different story, made of heat and need and, between her legs, a deeply erotic helplessness that made her feel alive.
She lost herself there, Frederick’s cock a demanding, insistent, ruthless demand.
But inside of her, it was all Arlo.
Everything was Arlo, the man who set this up. The man who made it work.
The man she couldn’t escape, even though she’d tried.
She felt her orgasm coming at her, hard — and she hated what Frederick had said to her. She didn’t hate that he thought that of her, because it didn’t matter what he thought. She hated that it was highly likely Arlo believed that too.
It made her want to cry, but instead, she fought.
Josette knew that Frederick wouldn’t let her adjust her position, so she didn’t try. Instead, she concentrated on the pain in her skull, not the way it flooded to the rest of her, hot and sweet. She focused on all those little discomforts, anything to keep that winding, tightening climax from taking hold.
She fought, but Frederick could read her entirely too well. He thrust deeper and shifted her position so that everything hurt that little bit more —
Because he knew what a pain slut she was.
He knew her almost as well as Arlo did, he’d always used all of those things against her, and he was doing it tonight, too. Because she felt it coming, tipping over that cliff and rolling toward her, slow and inevitable.
No matter how she fought it.
But she didn’t give up.
In response, Frederick began to move faster, deeper. He let go of that rhythm of his, that inexhaustible pace, and simply fucked her face instead. So that everything was his cock with that wicked piercing that drove her wild and mad and furious, because it hurt when he was buried in her throat but he could use it to become magic when he wanted to pull out orgasm that should have been impossible, and he did all of these things for the express purpose of wrecking her — and anyone else he got his hands on.
And tonight was no different, because the harder he fucked her, the less comfortable it was, the more she could feel that piercing of his against the back of her throat —
It was too much. Josette lost it completely. She exploded into nothingness, except as she did, she could feel Frederick finally let himself come, pouring himself down her throat.
He tasted different than Arlo did. More bitter, to her mind, but there was a familiarity in this, too. Frederick pulled back, but he didn’t pull his dick out of her mouth. He waited as she shook and sobbed around him and the only thing he allowed her was a slightly looser grip in her hair.
