Page 89 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
“I know,” I purr. “You’re doing so well.”
His hand speeds up at my praise, and he bares his throat to me with a toss of his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing under tight skin. The muscles in his arms pull impossibly tight, highlighting each protruding vein, and his chest rises and falls in uncontrollable heaves.
Something ferments in my belly, something Ithoughtwould be arousal but turns out to be a modicum of purebred jealousy. I’m jealous. Of his hand. Of the fact that I’m not the one making his eyes roll back.
I give him a few minutes of shallow breaths and grunts, his hand now falling into a steady rhythm as he rubs up and down,seeming to apply the most pressure at the base before wringing it up his length and letting it disperse at the top.
I fight the gush in my panties, fight the frisson of excitement swan diving to my toes, fight the way my thoughts cut in and out like the static of a radio. As much as I want to touch myself, I’m focused on pleasuring him, knowing that he’ll return the favor the minute he comes. But fuck, does everything burn. My pussy doesn’t cease its palpitating even when I force the reins from his hands, replacing his controlled strokes with my faster, rougher ones.
His hands slap loudly against the wall, and he cants his hips forward, his body purging a pornographic moan that practically rumbles through the foundation of the house. My fingers fail to close entirely around the circumference of his girth, but I squeeze lightly on a half-stroke anyways, distributing delicious pressure throughout his length, feeling the skin crease under my fingertips. When I get to his head, I smooth over the tip with my thumb, picking up the sticky excretion there, and I rip another noise of contentment from him.
“You want my mouth on your cock, Gage?” I ask in a patronizing tone. “You want me to suck you dry while I gag on your giant dick? You want to fuck my throat until my jaw locks?”
Gage forces himself to look at me, all heavy-lidded and glassy-eyed, and he manages to find an ounce of control, that dominant side of him tearing through his soft and submissive underbelly. “Gonna look so pretty when you’re choking on my cock, Spitfire. Gonna fuck your tonsils until you can’t take it anymore, and then you’re gonna take every last drop from me because it’s all yours—my dick, my cum, everything.”
I slowly drop to my knees, facing his dick head-on, which is a lot scarier than I initially thought it would be. How is that thing supposed to fit in my mouth when it barely fit in myvagina? Have people actually died from choking on dick? That’s literally the worst possible way anyone can go.
I table the little voice of caution in the back of my head and scrub the nervousness from my face. “You’re right. It is all mine.Youbelong tome.”
“Damn right I do. And I want everyone in the fucking world to know it.”
With one hand on the root to anchor myself, I part my lips and make way for the nine-inch intrusion, having to unhinge my jaw after I pass his head. His cold piercings tickle the walls of my mouth, and I swallow him down, inch by inch, my incisors brushing the thickness of him until his tip is finally settled at the back of my throat. And then I begin to milk him, hollowing my cheeks with a tight suction and bobbing my head back and forth. My hands work the base while my lips ascend his shaft, gripping around his cock in wet slurps, the overproduction of saliva slipping down my chin.
Gage begins to spear his dick against my tonsils, and he taps my gag reflex momentarily, the brunt of him causing the corners of my mouth to crackle a bit from the agape angle. I choke him down as tears pool in my eyes, adding to the already-slick mess on my face. The smell of him is overwhelming, and I’m stuffed to the point where all I can do is breathe through my nostrils. Once I adjust to his size, I slip up and down at a languid pace, taking my time to experiment with where he’s the most sensitive. I pop off him for a second to lick the throbbing head, and Gage’s hand flies out to nestle in a chunk of my hair, yanking so hard that it makes my neck crick.
“Cali,” he growls, but unlike his usual brassy warnings, this one holds no power.
I delicately skim my teeth over one of the metal knobs of his piercings, causing his hips to convulse and his expression to lose its set-in-steel control to irrepressible euphoria. His musclescan’t decide between being relaxed or strained, so I make the decision for him when I suckle only on the tip, doting on that slit with titillating laps.
“Good boys beg,” I say, sitting back on my haunches, waiting patiently for him to obey me.
“Please…”
I press a kiss to a vein traveling up his length. “I know you can do better than that.”
“Please, Cali. Fuck. I—please keep sucking. Need to come down your throat. Need to show you how much I appreciate you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise. I’ll do anything to have your incredible mouth on me,” he begs, a mess of a man with his pants down and cock out in my kitchen, six feet and one inch of honed muscle surrendering to a seductress in a five-foot-seven body.
I slowly—achingly slowly—reacquaint myself with his dick, switching between hand-curated pumps and earnest sucks, watching as his abdomen contracts and his thighs tauten, forewarning me of the last few stretches he has left in him before tipping over that precipice. And then I take him the farthest I can, deep-throating him, deriving a drawn-out groan that zaps straight to my pussy. He slams himself against the tight walls of my throat, rendering my tongue useless, and keeps a hand on the back of my head while he abuses my esophagus with thrust after agonizing thrust.
It’s a lot. The most intense sensation I’ve ever felt aside from him fucking me raw. Gage is in control now, deciding how rough to push, using the stutter of my gags to gauge when it’s too much. My nose is buried in his trimmed pubes, and my bottom lip skims the skin of his hair-matted balls.
“God, you feel fucking amazing,” he says, continuing to snap his hips against my face, this time repositioning his hand over my windpipe, fingers settled over the slight bulge of him stretching in my skin. “I love feeling myself inside you.”
He keeps his hand there, losing comprehensibility when he gets out the rest of his shunts, and finally, I feel his cockhead swell. Hot spurts of cum pulse down my throat in wave after endless wave, shooting straight into my stomach.
The minute Gage is done, he disengages from my mouth and slides his back down the wall, taking my face in his hands and wiping the spit from my lips. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks.
“I’m okay,” I assure him, leaning into the palm caressing my cheek. We’re both exhausted, nothing but the combined sound of uneven breaths to be heard over the silence of the apartment.
“Good, because I think I’d have a heart attack if I killed the love of my life with my cock.”
Ignoring the absurdity of his comment, the tail end of it manages to lure my attention, and it feels like a goddamn kill shot to my heart.
“What?”
“What?” Gage echoes, staring at me like he didn’t just drop the L-bomb and decimate my entire world.
“You just…you just said the L-word,” I sputter, blinking about fifteen times in thirty seconds, trying to keep a cool head when everything in my body is on fire and my emotions are running haywire.
