Page 17 of Hostile Vows
“Let me see those eyes.” He puts two fingers under my chin and gently tips my head back, the gesture almost tender. “Eyes up.”
In the darkness swallowing us both, he stares down at me with ferocious intensity, with the eyes of a man who shows no regret for this savage transaction.
When he fists the base of his dick, it makes it look longer, stiffer, and if at all possible, angrier. Brushing the tip across my lips, he paints them with my leftover saliva and the saltiness of his pre-cum.
“Look at you.” He stuffs his fingers into my hair. “So, fucking sexy on your knees, waiting for my cum.”
My skin tingles, his praise the kindling to a new fire in my core. It catches me off guard, the swollen sensation of my arousal a hateful deception.
“Open,” he orders, the word hoarse. “I want to see my whole dick rammed in your fuckable mouth.” When I hesitate, he wallops the length against my closed lips. “Would you rather we played a little rougher?”
I’ve no other option than to loosen my jaw or meet the wickedness tarnishing his dark aura. Something tells me it would amplify beyond control if I put up a fight.
This time, when he slides his heavy dick into my mouth, it feels more substantial—harder. His grip on my hair tightens as he thrusts in deep.
My stomach heaves at the force, the length and girth too much to withstand at this angle. I retch and gag, the motion of it hitting the back of my throat nothing less than dominating.
It was never like this with Liam. Then again, our sex life had fizzled out after a few months. Sex just wasn’t the same when we were sober the next morning. As for his dick, it lacked the sizable proportion of the one destroying me.
I’m so confused. My emotions have flipped inside out from the wrath of this hurricane. It shouldn’t spark my blood cells with wicked energy, nor should his sexy grunts of satisfaction make me feel alive. It’s all wrong.
I feel all of him, not just the dick destroying my throat, but the vibrations of his lust connecting with mine, creating a beast so carnal it might kill me.
André fixes his gaze on my entire face, studying my wide, teary eyes and spittle-soaked chin. The fierce grunt coming from the back of his throat only serves to heighten my senses, to reverberate through me like an electric shock. He’s enjoying this, maybe too much, as he pistons in and out, each time more violently than the last.
Over and over, he increases the intensity and then pulls out to let me gasp for air. Inhaling and exhaling so quickly makes me light-headed. Just when I think he’ll take it easy, he secures my drool-covered chin with harsh fingers, tips my head, and shoves himself back inside.
“Fuck, yeah.”
I’m completely at his mercy. Tears track my flaming cheeks and the treacherous throbbing between my thighs is something I refuse to accept.
Nothing about this is how it should be. Whatever understanding we once had in another life is well and truly dead. But it’s so terribly unfair how the thrill of his violence calls to me on a level I’ve never encountered. Not with Liam. Not with any man. Our bond always was intense. But this overshadows those innocent threads and creates something far more inexplicable.
It’s electrifying to finally be next to him. Secretly, although I’ll never admit it, forcing me to swallow his pre-cum stirs up my demons and invites them to dance with him.
Right when my own arousal heightens, saltiness bursts inside my mouth. He yanks his dick out and fists the length, ejecting warm cum all over my tongue. It splatters and spurts, hitting me in clumps. From my mouth to my chin, he marks me like it’s his signature.
I blink up at him when he smears it over my lips like it’s a creamy gloss, using the gentle crown of his otherwise violent dick. When he’s done, he scoops up the residue and slips his coated fingers into my mouth. This time he’s purposefully disciplined—gentle.
It’s cruelly seductive how he hunkers to eye level and stares at the erotic mess he’s made. His eyes, liquid pools crowned by bright white swirl with dark lust. I’m hyperaware of how unsettled I feel, like I want him to taste himself on me.
If he leans in any closer, he’ll suck me into his black magic spell, and I’ll lose myself. Luckily, after this evening, we’ll never cross paths again.
That awareness has me sharpening the jagged edges I’ve cultivated within me.
“Happy now?” I bend my elbows to raise my wrists in the tight space between us. “Take the belt off so I can clean your cum off my face.”
“Lie back.”
“Why?”
“Do it,” he snaps the order under his breath. Ignoring his own command, he shoves me, showing a level of impatience that I don’t wish to test.
Still bound, I helplessly topple and for the first time since he’s arrived in my room, I’m alarmed by the daredevil expression darkening his features. My heart pounds, the erratic pulse slamming in my throat. He doesn’t relish softness or clemency. Dexterous fingers pop open the button at my navel and yank the zipper lower.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He stops moving, his muscles rigid from restraint. Wild eyes drill into the opening he’s created, his marginally contained disposition turning predatory. “Confirming you enjoyed it.”
