Page 56 of Madness & Mercy
My lips stretch around him, the slick head of his cock dragging across my tongue. The first push is slow, like he’s savoring it. Like he wants me to feel every goddamn inch. And I do. Ifuckingdo.
The taste of him hits immediately—skin and salt and something rawer beneath it. My throat tightens as he presses in deeper, and I breathe through my nose, eyes stinging, spit already pooling at the corners of my mouth.
He groans low.“Fuck,your mouth feels good.”
His hand tangles in my hair again, gripping tight. He doesn’t force, but he guides, hips rolling forward until my nose nearly grazes his stomach. I gag, just once, and he pulls back, letting me breathe, but not for long.
Because he does it again.
And again.
Each thrust is a little rougher, a little deeper, until my jaw aches and spit’s dripping down my chin. My cock throbs against my stomach, untouched, weeping. My whole body is on fire. I can feel every pulse of him on my tongue, every twitch of arousal as he fucks my mouth like it belongs to him.
And maybe it does.
Because I’m not fighting it.
I’m not stopping it.
I’mwelcomingit.
The humiliation burns hotter than shame, it’sfuel.My cheeks are flushed, my chest heaving, and still, I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, lips stretched tight, drool soaking down my neck.
He groans again, that deep, filthy sound I hate how much I like. “Look at you. Fuckingperfectlike this.”
I want to glare. I want to growl.
But my mouth is full.
So instead, I moan around him.
And I feel his cock twitch.
His hips stutter just slightly, just for a second, then he grins like the devil himself.
He pulls out slowly, dragging every inch across my tongue before slapping the head lightly against my swollen lips.
“Think you’ve earned the right to come now,piccolino?”
My chest heaves, eyes glassy, lips slick and red. I nod.
His cock is already flushed and slick as he climbs over me—still cuffed, still helpless beneath him—and grabs the base of my cock, thenhis, aligning them together, thick and hot and pressed tip to tip.
The friction alone makes my body jolt.
He spits in his hand and wraps it around both of us, stroking slow.
I arch into him, tossing my head back, gritting my teeth so hard I feel my damn jaw pop.
“Don’t youdarelook away,” he growls. “You begged for this.Take it.”
I watch him. Watch his fist work both of us in tandem, the slick drag of skin on skin making me shudder, my cock jumping with every pull.
Every stroke is heat and tension andownership. I feel every inch of him against me. Every pulse, every twitch, every subtle shift in pressure that pushes me closer to the edge.
I can’t breathe. Ican’tbreathe.
His thumb swipes over both tips, slick and leaking. My hips jerk up instinctively, seeking more, chasing it.
