Page 22 of The Taker

“Oh fuck,” I moan, barely caring about appearances anymore. “More.”

His hands grip over my cheeks and he spreads them apart, finally licking my hole. Each pass has me bracing myself against the counter, holding on for dear life.

“Has anyone ever eaten this ass before me?” he rasps.

“No, I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do it…”

“For fuck’s sake, I could eat this ass at every meal and never get enough.”

I never enjoyed getting rimmed and always felt awkward, like the most private part of myself was on display. Now I know my past hookups never bothered to do it right. Rocco eats me as if his literal life depends on making my knees shake and my throat hoarse from screaming.

My hole is sloppy and wet, his warm saliva trickling down my inner thigh. His tongue spears inside me, fucking me in deep, fast thrusts until I short circuit.

I’m so fucking close to busting all over his counter top. So fucking close. He sucks on my puckered skin, and I lose myself.

Right before I come, he stops. His deep, raspy laughter is the sound of my pleasure being stripped away from me and reality crashing down around me.

How could he stop? I want to come so badly.

“Please,” I beg, throwing every shred of dignity I have out the fucking window.

“Please what? Use your words when you’re being a desperate cockslut.”

“Please don’t stop,” I cry, thrusting my ass back at him, not caring how delusional I sound or who’s in the apartment with us to hear me.

“That sounds like something a toyshouldsay. Your manners will get you everywhere, you know,” he says around a laugh before spitting on his finger and slipping it inside me.

He gently works it in and out of me, going deeper on every drive and picking up speed. My climax builds, reaching a feverpoint as he brushes against my prostate over and over again. I clench down on him, so close to finishing.

But he pulls out.

“I can play with your ass all day but unfortunately, my little toy, I have a meeting in ten minutes,” he informs me. “Stand up, turn around.”

If looks could kill, my glare would send this fucker six feet underground. When I’m facing him again, he pushes me to my knees, and I hiss when my tender ass hits my heels. He weaves his fingers through my hair, pulling the strands enough to ensure my attention is on him and only him.

“Ask nicely, and I’ll let you swallow my cum.”

I’m not sure if I feel disappointed in myself for how badly I want his cock in my mouth, or for how shamelessly I utter, “Please, let me choke on your cock again.”

The unzipping of his pants is loud in the quiet kitchen. He shoves his hardness inside my mouth, fucking my face hard and fast. His cock hits the back of my throat, and I gag. Our eyes connect, and I see it again—that darkness that should scare me off and make me run fast and far away. But all it does is suck me in and make me open my throat for him to abuse as he pleases.

Within a few minutes, he pulls out, until only his tip is in my mouth, and he comes. I swallow every drop without even thinking about it, as if it’s the only natural response I could have.

“I trust you’ll think about the consequences of your actions. If you touch yourself, I’ll know. You won’t come for at least a week. I expect lunch to be served in my office promptly at one.”

I’m so shocked at my own behavior, all I manage is a murmured yes in response. I dropped to my knees for a monster who hijacked my life, just like the greedy cockslut he accused me of being. He tips my jaw up, closing my mouth for me. Then he kisses my swollen lips with a dominating passion that melts my anger into a puddle at my feet.

“Get dressed before my guards see you like this,” he orders me before he strides from the room, leaving me hard and wanting, kneeling on his kitchen floor.

I jump up, catching my reflection in the stainless steel fridge. My ass is red, with finger indents where he spread me open for his personal consumption. My lips look as puffy as they feel.

The one thing glaringly missing from my reflection is my self worth, which I threw in the garbage the moment I dropped to my knees and pleaded for his cock.

After I put my clothes on, I clean up the kitchen and load the dishwasher. I hold the cutting board in my hand, running my fingers over the grain of the wood. I flip it over to read the engraving.

La felicità si fa in cucina.

Happiness is made in the kitchen.

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