Page 41 of Saint Valentine

I lifted his shirt and brushed my lips against his abs before reaching the band of his joggers, tugging them down. No boxers. What was with him and his dislike for underwear?

He let me pull his dick out. He was already hard, and hot to the touch. A drop of precum oozed from the tip.

He ran two fingers slowly along my jawline.

“What are you doing?”

I raised my eyes to meet his. They were damn near lolling shut from lust. I stroked his shaft once, from root to tip.

“You want me to stop?” I dragged my tongue across the head.

“N-no…” He stuttered, and that shit sent a thrill through me. My pussy started getting wet.

I was officially into this.

I eased his dick into my mouth, inch by inch, gagging when the head touched the back of my throat. He groaned, his head falling back against the chair as his fingers tangled in my hair.

He threaded his fingers through it, getting a good grip as I bobbed my head.

Then his grip tightened. He drove his hips upward until he was fucking my throat. My lips stretched around him, my eyes watered as I struggled to take all of him.

I gagged.

He didn’t stop.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, voice thick.

I gasped for air, my head buzzing from the iron grip he had on my hair, my nipples hard, my body wound impossibly tight.

He pushed deeper, holding my head so I couldn’t move.

His pace quickened. My throat burned, my lungs desperate for air, forcing me to breathe through my nose.

"I’m close, Princess..." His voice was nothing but gravel and sin.

I already knew. I could taste it—the salty promise on my tongue.

"Suck it out," he demanded, fucking my mouth.

I poured everything I had into it, my hands gripping his thighs as I worked him over.

He came growling. Held me there until I swallow all of him and cleaned up the mess.

Finally, he let go of my hair.

I pulled back, wiping my mouth.

His thumb dragged along my jaw, smearing a drop of what I missed

The look in his eyes was that of rapture. He was wrecked. Undone. Owned.

He sagged into his chair, then reached down and pulled me up onto his lap, his arms wrapping around me as he buried his face in my neck.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

My pussy was throbbing.

“Can I sit on it.” I asked seriously.

---