Page 125 of Masked Sins
“Jesus, Layla.”
“You were saying, Master?” she asks, tilting her head innocently. “I believe you were in the middle of confessing all of your sins,” she adds, stroking me with her hand.
I chuckle. “Just making sure you realize the depth of my obsession,sis.”
She smirks before opening her mouth and waiting for me to drive between her perfect, pink lips.
“Tell me everything, Master. Please.”
I jerk forward and fuck her mouth roughly, over and over and over until her eyes are watering.
“I’ve been to every single ballet performance. I bought fake pheromones for Sparrow so he’d feel at home in my apartment. When I first saw that you messaged me, I nearly had a heart attack. It was so fucking—fuck,” I hiss as Layla gently bites down on my shaft. Her brow is creased as she looks up at me, and then she pulls off with a pop.
“Keep going, Master.”
“Why’d you use your teeth?” I grit out.
She dots my shaft with kisses. “Because I never said I’d be happy about all of this,” she says honestly. “And maybe you need a little punishment, too.”
Fuck.
I never considered myself a masochist. Sadism is all I know—all Iwantto know. Same with being a Dominant. Having someone put their trust in me completely, experiencing something so intimate with another person… it’s addicting.Corrupting.
But with Layla? I’d hand over everything I am on a platter if I knew she was the one doling it out.
She takes me back into her mouth.
“Clever,” I mutter. “I’m the one you bought your house from.”
This makes her pause, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are wide. She doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“You were looking for houses. I saw this one and bought it, thinking you’d like being close to your?—”
I can’t say Scott’s name while we’re doingthis.
“Anyway, I listed it immediately for a little lower than I bought it for, and I had my guys fix it up. I didn’t entertain any offers. It was always yours.”
She pulls off me, looking perplexed. “Why didn’t you just buy it for me outright?”
“Would you have taken it? I knew you’d never accept charity, so I had to get creative.”
Her eyes glisten with emotion.
“Keep going,” I tell her, running a hand down the back of her skull. “I’m close.”
She moves back onto my cock, and I groan.
“My username. Did you ever notice the year?”
Again, she goes still—just now realizing how deep this fixation goes.
“My birth year,” she whispers after pulling off. Her hands drop to her sides.
“Keep. Going,” I say gently, grabbing her chin. “I want you to taste me. I want you to swallow every drop of my cum. Do you understand?” My voice isn’t hard, but her spine stiffens obediently.
Submissives don’t take kindly to being yelled at, and respect goes both ways.
She does as I ask, and a bolt of electricity rushes through me when she begins working my balls again and sucking me down into the back of her throat.
