Page 52 of Ruthless Chaos
Drool runs down my chin and coats my hands. I find I don’t really care.
All that matters right now is knowing that I’m in control of him. I’ve never felt like this before. The throbbing in my skull has turned euphoric.
I slip away into a frenetic rhythm that matches the heat coiling inside me.
I keep my eyes on the sliver of his throat and face that I can see.
His veins are tensed, his jaw clenched. His groans grow louder, and he moans my name. I close my eyes when he does, wishing he had said Alize instead.
Alexander gives out a guttural shout, then his length quivers in my mouth.
Warmth erupts from him, hitting the back of my throat in spurts. Alexander holds my head in position until he’s filled my mouth and it’s dripping down my chin.
I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
The storm in them has passed. Their usual cold intensity has returned, and this time he’s wearing a smirk.
My stomach falls.
“Swallow it,” he says. The harshness is back in his voice too.
I obey him.
It’s got the consistency of watery jelly and tastes just as salty as his dick does, with just a hint of sweetness. When I’m done, he shoves my head away and starts fixing his clothes.
I watch him carefully, too scared to even breathe.
This is surreal.
The silence in my head explodes into a whirlwind of thoughts.
Humiliation starts to replace whatever I was just feeling. My lips tremble, cold sweat beading on my forehead. I wipe him from my chin with the sleeve of my shirt.
Strangely, I want him to hug me.
I feel pathetic.
My eyes start to burn, and I know the waterworks are close.
“You give head like a proper slag.” Alexander’s words cut straight through me, and I look up at him in disbelief. He grins, and I swear he looks evil. “You loved it, didn’t you?”
My cheeks heat up. I’m ashamed.
I hate that even as he’s making fun of me, I still find him attractive.
I feel like I’ve been cracked open.
This is raw and new. I don’t know what to do about it.
Though he looms over me, the threat of ruin in his eyes, his overbearing presence is magnetizing. Right now, I want to run away from him—but I also want to curl into a ball and have him comfort me.
Fuck, what the hell is happening to me?
The tears start. I don’t even try to stop them.
My entire body starts shaking. I wrap my arms around myself. The tears won’t stop coming and each sob seems to pull me deeper into oblivion.
After a while, I don’t even recognize what it feels like to be myself anymore.
