Page 43 of Owned

I sucked in an unsteady breath. The force of his gaze, like a hand around my throat, and the hard note in his voice were weirdly reassuring. If toys didn’t think, then I didn’t have to. I could just kneel here, waiting for him to tell me what to do, and god…what a relief that would be. To not think, not fight, not pretend. To just…exist.

His gaze roamed over my face as he took hold of his zipper tab and began to draw it down. “Good. Stay like that. I’ll tell you what to do.”

I didn’t move, my breath rushing in and out, the movement of his hands hypnotizing me. I could see the hard length of his cock pressing against the cotton of his underwear and my mouth dried. Holy hell, he was big, not that I should have been surprised given his height and gladiator’s build. Everything about him was big.

I swallowed, nervous tension and hunger gathering in a tight, complicated ball in my stomach.

“If you think I’m going to go easy on you because you’re a virgin, you’re mistaken,” he murmured. “You could have said no, toy, but you didn’t. So don’t say you weren’t warned.” His hand reached down and he freed the massive length of his cock.

My breathing accelerated as I took him in, the shape of him big and long and curving up to his flat abdomen. His skin was smooth and velvety and he was just as beautiful there and he was everywhere else. Again, not surprising.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Nerves collected in the pit of my stomach, shivers chasing over my skin. I couldn’t have disobeyed him if I’d tried. I opened my mouth, and watched the gold of his eyes flare, brilliant and hot. It was turning him on to have me like this, and he wasn’t hiding it. His desire was mesmerizing and I knew it was for me. Because of me.

The remains of my doubts fell away, leaving behind them only breathless anticipation, a wild thrill coursing through my bloodstream.

He gripped his cock in one fist, but he didn’t move, not yet. “Beg for it,” he growled. “Beg for my cock. Beg to worship me the way a good bride should.”

“Please,” I heard myself say, my voice hoarse. “Please…I-I want to worship you.”

His mouth curved in a feral smile. He liked me begging oh yes, he liked it a lot, and I liked his pleasure. It made my sex throb, made me wet for him.

“Very good.” His voice got deeper, rougher, threaded through with heat. “Keep your eyes on me.”

And I kept them on him as he guided the head of his cock into my mouth, his gaze holding mine. He didn’t hide his pleasure, didn’t pretend that he wasn’t turned-on, and watching him made me want to give him more of it, undo him completely the way he’d undone me.

His flavor was salty and musky, and delicious, which I hadn’t expected, and when I hesitantly pressed my tongue to him, he made a soft growling sound that I found incredibly erotic. Then he reached down, sliding his fingers into my hair and holding me steady as he pushed deeper into my mouth, my lips stretching wide around him.

I trembled, the throb between my legs insistent and when his fingers tightened and he began to thrust into my mouth, I couldn’t stop the moan that was torn from me. I didn’t understand how this could be so erotic when I was the one giving pleasure to him, yet it was. The taste of him and his heat and his smoky, masculine scent were all aphrodisiacs that I had no hope of fighting.

He thrust deeper, harder, hitting the back of my throat and making my eyes water, but I furiously blinked away the tears because I wanted to see him. I was addicted to the taut expression on his face and how molten his eyes were.

I lifted my hands to his powerful thighs and gripped him, bracing myself.

“Fuck, you’ve got a hot mouth,” he purred. “Use your tongue and your teeth, toy. I can take it. I’m not fragile.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I tried, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock and then using the edge of my teeth to nip him. He growled again, which sent a surge of answering pleasure through me.

He began to thrust even harder and I couldn’t stop the low moans that broke from me. That seemed to get him off even more, because he got rougher and faster, making my eyes water and my jaw ache. Making me press my thighs together and grip his harder, because I was getting off on this as much as he was.

I desperately wanted to touch myself, give myself some relief, but he seemed to know immediately the thought occurred to me, because he gave me a savage smile. “Don’t you dare,” he warned, his voice full of gravel. “It’s your husband’s cock you should be giving attention to, not that little pussy of yours.”

I shuddered at the rough words and the heat in them, holding onto his thighs tightly instead, my eyes streaming, my jaw aching, desperate for his touch. Desperate too to see his beautiful face, to watch his eyes go incandescent with the pleasure I brought him.

In the end I didn’t have to do much but hold on as he fucked my mouth, his fingers painfully tight in my hair. Then he said in a voice I didn’t recognize, “I’m going to come and you’ll swallow every fucking drop, because that’s what good little fuck toys do.” Then he came, a savage growl bursting from him as he emptied himself down my throat, and I was good, I swallowed every drop.

Afterwards, all I could do was lean forward, resting my head against his powerful thighs as he tucked himself away. I was a mess, my throat bruised, an agonizing throb between my legs.

Atlas remained silent, his hands moving lazily in my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead. The light touch made my whole body tremble uncontrollably, and my bruised throat tightened, a surge of emotion bringing me close to tears for absolutely no reason that I could see.

I was desperate for him not to notice, so when he tried to pull my face away from where I’d buried it against his thighs, I resisted. I didn’t want him to see. I felt too vulnerable, too outside myself and out of control. My brain had kicked into high gear again, telling me that being this desperate for a man was a bad thing, because look what it had done to my mother. I didn’t want to be her, did I? Fragile and vulnerable, and needing someone to take care of her? No, of course I didn’t. I wanted to be stronger than that, I had to be stronger than that.

Atlas was still a minute then he crouched down in front of me. I turned away, not wanting him to see my face and read the vulnerability I couldn’t hide there. Also, my mascara was no doubt a complete mess because of how my eyes had watered from the press of his cock against the back of my throat, and then with this stupid prickle of tears.

“Look at me,” he said.

I shook my head, but then he gripped my chin and turned me resolutely to face him. His gaze was so sharp, so perceptive it felt as if he was looking right into my soul, and my eyes welled up with helpless tears yet again.

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