Page 33 of Stitched Up in You
He’s trying to seem as emotionless as he can, making it all the easier for me to try and get what I want, me in a position to bring him to his knees, by being on mine.
His cock is everything and then some, and I want what Belle had—a night with a monster.
All of my romance novels combined could never have prepared me for him, but from the tightening around his eyes, slight though it is, I can tell he’s not as unaffected as he wants me to believe.
He wants me to think he doesn’t want me. But no man ever let a woman this close when he didn’t like what he saw.
I tighten my hands on his huge thighs, the size of them making me feel dainty in comparison. A rumble climbs his throat, and I raise my head to see a ‘get on with it’ sort of look onhis face, causing butterflies to make racket inside me in nervous anticipation.
I shimmy lower, putting my head in his lap, licking up one side of his cock and down the other, marveling at his thick length even though it’s clear he’s only half aroused.
He must be at least ten inches and a good three around with how I can’t grip all of him at once. I stroke him as he sits unmoving, his hands planted on the armrests of the chair, and lave my tongue around the head of him, letting my tongue ring clink against his piercing.
His cock hardens under my ministrations, and I inwardly preen. Fisting him slowly, I moan in appreciation when a bead of precum meets my taste buds, salty and thick, sending want skyrocketing through me. Oh god, he tastes good.
I set to work, licking my tongue over his thick member to spread my saliva as much as I can to let his dick slide into my mouth easier. As big as he is, I know my face is going to be hurting later, but it will be so worth it.
Glancing up at him, his completely impassive attitude has me faltering until I notice how tight his grip is on his chair. He’s not as unresponsive as he wishes he was, and there’s a hint of hatred in his gaze, as if he hates that I can make him feel anything.
Ducking my head, I close my eyes and open my jaw wide, lust spiraling in my middle. I grip him tightly with both hands and feed him into my mouth, paying extra attention around the head of him with my tongue ring.
The wet suctioning sounds of my mouth fucking him echo through the empty room, and then I hear it, the soft sounds of his breathing becoming labored. I force my jaw as wide as it will go, trying to prevent scraping him with my teeth and can only get a few inches down before tears smart.
I swallow, breathing through my nose, and suck while driving more of him into my mouth. I’m unable to get all of him down, even with my lack of a gag reflex, he’s just too big.
I lift my head enough to dip my tongue in the slitted hole, clinking our piercings together and relishing the flavor excreting from him. Stroking him with one hand, I reach for his heavy testicles, feeling the weight of them in my hand before licking up the side of his dick, knowing I won’t ever be able to fit all of him.
I make up for it with sure, steady strokes, as my mind glazes over, bobbing my head up and down on his cock like it was made just for me. Imagining those steel gray of his eyes glazed over with want for me, on his knees for me, begging me for what I want to give him.
My nipples tighten in my bra, and I have to keep myself from squirming to stop the ache quickening between my legs. I lose myself, trying to suck him down as if trying to inhale him.
My skin goes hot as I think about what his reaction would be if I took off my pants to play with myself while sucking him off.
Tingles start at my clit and my insides clench in response. Since the moment I saw Frank Stein on the television I wanted to fuck him silly, knowing he’s a monster makes me absolutely feral for him, as if God himself said “Bernie, you were meant to have this.” I have no illusions of being Frank Stein’s ball and chain, but there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to have this dick, even if only for a night.
I want to get what I can get from this man, and then Edgar and I will go home, with stories of big dick and stock in catnip to live off of for the rest of our days.
I set a fast rhythm pumping him with both fists that slide effortlessly across his massive cock as I suction my cheeks as closed as I can, having almost lost all feeling in them now. I lick and slurp at the head of him, clacking my tongue ring with his piercing while I suck him down like my life depends on it.
His organ swells, and it keeps growing thicker until tears stream down my face from the stretch and I gag, my throat unable to hold him.
And then I feel it. I moan at the first taste that coats my throat. He’s delicious and almost like a fruit, tart but very sweet and not salty at all. Interesting.
A creaking sound goes off near my right ear like an explosion with an echoing repeat on my left. My eyes fly open wide and I glance up at Frank, at his furious gray gaze, and quickly realize he’s trying his damndest to keep from coming, his massive meat hooks embedded in the arms of his chair.
My bruised lips almost curve into a smile as I bob my head harder, relishing the wet sounds we make together as I release him with one hand long enough to press a knuckle at the sweet spot just below his balls.
He lets out a stiff grunt, and elation fills me as ropes of cum spurt from the oversized dick in my hands. I let out a satisfied moan, and start sucking him clean. I can’t wait to tell my book reader group—monsters do taste sweet.
A euphoric sensation in my chest explodes to my limbs, sending my body quaking with lust as my nipples strain against the confines of my bra. That was hot.
I lift off his lap and a stinging sensation register in the soles of my feet from pushing off the floor with my toes for too long.
I grin up at him, knowing I must look like an absolute mess, my face blotchy and smeared with tears and cum. He glares at me, unmoving, and I push off his lap, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I get to my feet, practically humming with satisfaction.
“Well, Mr. Stein how do you fe—” I yelp when his big hands grab hold of my wrist before I can get my next word out to gloat at him. I get a glimpse of the impressions made in the wood ofhis chair and lick my lips before staring up at him with a hooded gaze.I rocked his world.
A growl rattles from his massive chest, and the chair squeaks beneath him as he moves. But then I cry out when he stands, taking me up into the air with him and gasp when he turns me, bending me over the table in a hard grip while tearing at my sweatpants.
