Page 39 of His Relentless Angel

Lowering my voice, I ask, “Did you like it?”

“No,” he says quickly and firmly.

I lift to pull the waistband of his red boxer briefs down to free his cock and fist it. “Are you lying to me?”

“No.” He pumps his hips up to fuck my tightening fist, pre-cum welling from the slit at this tip.

I lean close to whisper in his ear, “The age of consent in Texas is seventeen. If I had shown up to your apartment in that bikini, would you have kissed me?”

Again, he’s firm when he says, “Hell no,” though his chest rises and falls faster.

I scoot back on my knees, forcing him to let go of my hips, and tell him, “Wait right here.” Two minutes later, I emerge from our bedroom wearing the orange bikini, which fits even smaller now, with dampened hair to make it all messy like it was in the photo.

Isaiah releases a harsh exhale, pushes his glasses up his nose, and fists the base of his cock after slumping lower on the couch. I step between his knees and kiss my way down from his lips, over his pecs, and drop to my knees to lick his abs and then, finally, his cock.

“Fuck, B.” He groans and pants between parted lips when I swipe my tongue across his slit to lick up his pre-cum. I wrap my hand around his fist to help him stroke his cock faster. “Lick it with your little tongue again.” I do, and he makes a strangled noise.

I swirl my tongue around his crown, then look up and whisper in a sultry voice, “Tell me, ‘Happy birthday, Bailey’.”

He presses his lips flat together and shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. I push his hand away and lick a line down the underside of his shaft, swirl my tongue around his balls, then cup them to gently pull on them when I make my way back up to his tip.

“Say, ‘Happy birthday, Bailey, and I’ll suck your dick.”

“Shit, that’s…” His dick throbs in my hand. “That’s too far. I…I can’t.”

I pout, then use his cock to paint my lips with his pre-cum.

“Oh fuck, B, that’s so goddamn sexy.” When Isaiah closes his eyes and drops his head back against the couch, speaking the words I want to hear with gravel in his voice, I bob my head to take as much of his length into my mouth as I can without him hitting the back of my throat. Isaiah shouts my name and palms the back of my head, applying the barest amount of pressure when I lift my head.

“Harder,” I tell him. “Use me to get off, love.”

Isaiah’s hesitancy gives way to need. He grips my head with both hands and shoves me down at the same time as he thrusts up, making me gag. “Shit!” He pulls on my hair, and I shake my head, his cock still in my mouth.

“Again,” I try to say around his shaft, not sure if he understands.

But he understands me perfectly, and he shoves my head back down, his cock pushing into my throat. I roll my eyes up to meet his, which are wide and unblinking as he stares at me. I tug on his balls, and he goes feral, fucking my face just as I want him to until he’s cumming, giving me the words I want to hear again, louder this time.

I choke on his cum, catching it in my hand when I cough. Once I catch my breath, I lick every drop from my palm, then show him my clean hand. Then I find myself lifted and thrown on the floor, belly side down, until he yanks my hips up and unties the bows of my bikini bottoms.

Unexpectedly, he swats my ass, which he’s never done before, though it’s not as hard as it could be given how strong he is. “Seventeen spankings for your birthday. Count them out loud,” he demands.

I had no idea spanking could be so erotic, and he does all seventeen quickly, my core clenching with desire. When I count out the last one, Isaiah flips me over and tugs my triangles to the sides, which presses my breasts together. He shoves my knees up to my shoulders and fucks me into the low-pile gray carpet, undoubtedly giving me a wicked carpet burn, but I don’t complain.

Though breathing in this position is hard, I grit out, “Say it again, love.”

“Little fucking evil angel.”

My stomach plummets, but I try not to let it show.

His glasses fall off his nose with the force of his thrusts, and I quickly slide them back into place. I know he hates not being able to see all of me with sharp precision.

“You’re going to send me straight to hell for the shit you want me to say.” But he says it anyway, his voice deep and husky.

He abandons my left leg so he can work his hand between us to pinch my clit until I’m screaming his name with my orgasm, quickly followed by his release inside me. Isaiah collapses on top of me, knocking the remaining breath out of my lungs, his cock twitching before softening, though he doesn’t pull out.

As hot as it is when he tells me what I want to hear, I stroke the length of his spine and tell him, “If you hate it…if what I want makes you that uncomfortable, then I won’t ever ask you to do it again. Ok?”

Isaiah lifts his chest and belly off mine by an inch so I can draw a full breath. He kisses my favorite spot on my jaw. “It’s…it’s ok. We can…I don’t know what the right word is…”

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