Page 37 of Lamb

Not with how fucking good it felt. And it feltfucking good. She could twist it off for all I cared, as long as she didn’t stop what she was doing. And what she was doing was giving me the type of blow job that could make a grown man weak in the knees. Could andwas.

Because I had no doubt that if it weren’t for the tensile strength of the leather in this belt currently bearing the full weight of my body, I’d be a puddle on the floor. My abdominal muscles clenched and my spine nursed straight.

This woman’s mouth was more powerful than any aspirator in any operating room I’d ever seen. More accurate too. She didn’t need me to guide her—something I couldn’t do anyway with my arms looped above my head. She didn’t need me to tell her when to speed up or slow down either. She read my body, the way I used to be able to read hers. Adjusting her rhythm each time I sucked in a sharp breath or groaned in a way she liked. Her palm working in tandem as she fluctuated between long, languid strokes and quick jerks of her wrist.

I wanted to watch her. To strain my neck muscles and lean forward so that I could see when her nostrils flared on a staggered breath, when she swallowed down the saliva pooling in her mouth and dripping down her chin, when she went too deep and had to pull away to keep herself from gagging. But my head had a mind of its own. Tipping back and knocking on the door as my eyes rolled up towards Heaven.

It was the closest a guy like me would ever get to those pearly gates, and I had to sin in order to do it.Fuck if that wasn’t irony for ya.

Good thing I didn’t believe in that shit. Or I might have felt the tiniest bit guilty when Marisela drew her mouth almost back until the only thing wet was the tip. Circled her tongue around me once, twice, before relaxing her esophagus enough to choke me down. I groaned, much louder than I should, and clenched my ass cheeks to keep from coming.

A gentleman would have finished right there, balls-deep in her throat, where she couldn’t taste it. He would have ended it quick, allowed his girl to tap out and stop putting so much pressure on her knees. He would have let her know what a good job she was doing being his perfect little slut.

I was no gentleman. Even if Marisela was everything a lady should be. I was also well-acquainted with edging myself, which meant I could draw this out for hours if I wanted to. And part of me didwantto, while another part wanted this woman’s face covered in so much cum she’d have trouble opening her eyes without feeling the burn of her lashes.

At least that’s what I thought before she choked me down again, like some sword swallower in a sideshow, her finger creeping its way towards my ass. Then, the next thing I knew, she was massaging my prostate at the same time she milked my cock dry.

My head was spinning, dizzy and detached, as I tried toblink myself back to consciousness. Which was no easy feat after some she-devil in a powder-pink dress syphoned your soul from your body through the tip of your cock.

Marisela grinned at me with pouty lips—much poutier after all the friction—while dabbing at the side of her mouth with a manicured hand. There was no reason for it other than dramatics, seeing as my little lamb hadn’t spilled a drop. But who was I to call her out with the one-woman show she put on for my benefit?

“Just because I’ve never been fucked, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fuck,” she whispered against my ear, pushing herself up on her tiptoes to reach it. “Watching porn used to be one of my favorite pastimes.”

I lifted a curious brow, while wishing like hell I knew a tech guy I trusted enough to pull up her browser history. “Used to be?”

Her smirk dropped, tugging into a frown before settling on neutral. “Don’t see much of a point anymore.” She shrugged as she shoved me aside, grabbed the door handle, and yanked it open. Forcing me to shuffle forward a few steps to give her space to slip through.

I wanted to follow her, to watch and see if Tate could smell my cum on her breath. If he cared enough to notice the bruises on her knees or how flushed her cheeks were. But I couldn’t do any of that until I found the energy to unhook my arms and tug up my pants. And I was still looking for it… The energy to move and the strength to stand upright.

52

MARISELA

Irinsed the taste of cum from my mouth with a sip of hot tea while Tate did the same with the pussy juice I could still smell on him, and realized this was what my life would be. It could be worse, though.

There were worse things than living in a lavish mansion with maids and butlers attending to your every need. Worse things than marrying someone who cared less about what was in your head and more about getting it from someone else. On that same note, there was a sort of freedom that came with knowing the man at your side didn’t give a damn about what you did in your spare time—as long as it didn’t affect him.

It was something we could both agree on. At least I was pretty certain we could.

I cleared my throat, waiting for Tate to look up from whatever piece of ass he was currently messaging on hisphone. Because I had no doubt that was what he was doing. He locked the screen before shoving the device into a pocket, crossing a leg over a knee as he sank deeper into the cushion of the large wingback in the parlor. We’d just returned from the ballroom, barely speaking two words to each other during the drive back to Prescott Estates.

“How was she?” The question was nonchalant, like I was asking about the weather and not the woman my fiancé was fucking before we got here.

He was quick to drop his gaze, staring at his nail beds as though he was suddenly more interested in getting a manicure than what I had to say, and not because he was ashamed. Men like Tate were not ashamed of the shit they did. He just didn’t want to deal with the consequences.

“Who’s that, my dear?” he hummed.

“The blonde you just fucked.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he searched my face for something he wouldn’t find. Jealousy. “Which one?”

I shrugged. “Honestly, the answer doesn’t matter. I was just trying to get your attention.”

“And now that you have it, what are you going to do with it, sweetheart?” Tate grinned, steepling his hands while leaning back so that his crotch was in my direct line of sight. Like he was expecting me to get on my knees or something.

“Not that kind of attention.” I shook my head.

“Shame. I do like getting my dick sucked after a quickfucking.” When it was clear I wasn’t getting the hint, Tate huffed. Pushing to his feet and storming off. But instead of leaving, he slammed the pocket doors shut. Latching them closed before turning back towards me. “What do you want, Marisela?”

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