Page 148 of Nemesync
The more he speaks, the more I salivate at the thought of having him deep in my throat.
“Elijah, it’s— it’s my first time doing this, I might not be the best,” I confess.
I’m stressed, of course I am.
But I want to give him something so badly.
It’s always him pleasing me, and I want to reciprocate it. To make him lose control like I do everytime his mouth touches me.
He lifts my head to meet my gaze. “Just seeing you on your knees, with your tongue out like my good little toy brings me so much pleasure,” he smirks. “I think we’ll be good for that.”
Breathe Z, breathe.
I remove the only obstacle between us, and he stands before me, naked, his arousal glistening at the tip. Perfectly thick and long, his thighs sculpted and strong. How have I never noticed that he has so many tattoos on his thighs?
I tentatively trace my fingers along his length before curling them around it softly. I notice his reaction; he knows I’m exploring, sensing the control I have over him without even using my mouth yet is so pleasing.
He grips my hair firmly, pulling it back to lift my head. “Milaya, if you don’t put your mouth on it soon, I might just die.”
I laugh at his impatience. “Let me relieve you from all the stress I caused you today.”
His skin feels silky beneath my lips as I kiss the tip, lightly stroking with my hand. “Fuck,” he growls, his grip on my hair tightening, urging me on.
Feeling emboldened, I begin to take him into my mouth, inch by inch, while still stroking him at the base.
I glance up to meet his gaze; his eyes are partially closed. I want to make him proud, so I continue, taking him deeper with each suck.
“I knew I’d enjoy seeing that insolent mouth shut, but having it wrapped around my cock is even better,” he murmurs, his voice so low and demanding.
I grip his balls and squeeze them because of his remark and his reaction is immediate, a groan escaping his lips.
God, he sounded so sexy. “Fuck, Zanae. Your mouth was made for me to fuck and fill,” he says, his grip tightening on my head as he thrusts faster and harder in my mouth.
Throughout, he lavishes me with praise, his words fueling my need and will to satisfy him. “You’re taking me so well,” he groans, urging me on to take him deeper and deeper, despite the gagging and tears streaming down my face.
I didn’t know I could do that; I didn’t know I possessed that primal desire to please him like this.
“Open your throat wider, baby, take it all,” he commands, his touch soft against my cheek. I comply, swallowing my fatigue as I accommodate him fully.
Fuck.
I can feel him reaching the peak of his pleasure because of the breathy sounds he lets out. Then he asks something, his tone so soft, so low, so demanding, “Does my beautifulLittle Nightmarewant to swallow?”
I nod in response, so aroused, my eyes brimming with tears, my chin slick with saliva.
I know I look like a mess right now. But I don’t care.
With his release, a wave of salted warmth fills my throat, and I swallow it down, feeling a surge of strength and satisfaction witnessing him let it all go because of me, and me only.
I get back to my feet, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and he kisses me without waiting, his hand on my chin, pushing me against the wall with a smirk. “You know, I was so fucking stressed that I didn’t have dinner, Zanae. Would you mind opening your pretty legs for me, Miss Dellé?”
“I hope you’re hungry enough,” I reply with a dark laugh.
He kneels before me, his half-smile filled with anticipation. “Call me insatiable.”
He unzips my jeans and pulls them down, grabbing my ass and drawing my hips closer to his face. “Oh, you’re wearing red panties, Zanae. Fuck my life.”
He then pushes the thong down and spreads my legs wider with his hands. His lips trail kisses along my thigh, causing my breath to hitch.
