Haunting-Adeline

“You’re pu ng on an act, Addie,” he pants, calling me out. “But don’t
pretend like your pussy isn’t saliva ng just as much as your mouth is.”
As much as I want to tell him how wrong he is… I can’t. The slickness
between my thighs is proof enough. But he doesn’t get to have that, too.
He doesn’t get to strip me of power and turn me into a puddle of desire
and despera on. So I clench my thighs and ignore my body’s need.
Eyes locked on his near crazed eyes, the hand in my hair flexes un l I can
no longer move of my own voli on. My only warning that his control has
snapped. The belt ghtens again, and my head is held immobilized as he
drives his cock down my throat.
I gag, tears spilling over my lids, but it only seems to incite him further.
He withdraws nearly to the p before he’s driving his hips forward un l my
mouth is stuffed full.
“Are you going to swallow my cum like a good li le girl?” he bites out. I
can’t move, or actually answer him. The only thing I can do is brace myself
as he buries himself deep and spills down my throat.
“Fuck, Addie,” he roars, growling as he floods my mouth faster than I can
swallow. His seed slips from my lips and drips down my chin.
I can’t breathe. Can hardly think anymore. My lungs are deprived of
oxygen, and just when I think I’m going to blackout, he jerks himself out
with another grunt, releasing the belt as he does.
I suck in a deep breath, coughing and hacking as I try to regain
everything I lost. Air. Morals. Even some of my hair.
But I didn’t lose my damn dignity. Not when I took control of that
situa on. That was on my terms, not his.
Sniffing, I wipe my mouth and thank God that I wore the lips ck that will
take a bucket of oil to even smudge. I stand and wipe the underside of my
eyes, clearing them of mascara and eyeliner while he tucks himself back in
and slides his belt back around his waist.
And then I straighten out my dress, slip the rose from my hair and walk
past him, snatching my coat from his hand and shoulder checking him on
the way.
His dark chuckle follows me, but somehow, his long legs manage to eat
up the space faster. He beats me to the car, opening the door with an
amused grin on his face.
“Your chariot awaits, baby,” he says, his tone low and sinful.