Page 14 of Ravage
His smile is dark, predatory. "Mine."
The word reverberates through me as he stands, running his hand over his pants.
My mouth goes dry watching his hands—elegant but scarred, speaking of violence and control.
"Eyes on me," he commands when my gaze drops. "Always on me."
He frees himself from his expensive suit pants, and I can't help but gasp.
He's huge, thick, already hard from watching my submission.
The size of him makes me nervous—David was nothing compared to this.
"Scared?" He threads his fingers through my hair, grip firm but not painful. Yet.
"No, Sir."
"Liar." He guides himself to my lips, painting them with precum. "Open."
I part my lips, and he pushes inside, not gentle, not easing me into it.
He fills my mouth completely, hitting the back of my throat and making me gag.
My hands strain against the rope binding them, instinctively wanting to push him away, but I can't move.
"Breathe through your nose," he instructs, holding himself deep until my eyes water. "That's it. You're going to take all of me."
He starts to move, fucking my mouth with controlled thrusts that make me dizzy.
Saliva drips down my chin, my mascara runs in black streams, and the sounds I'm making are obscene, desperate.
Then his phone rings.
I expect him to ignore it.
Instead, he answers, never slowing his rhythm.
"Vincent." His voice is perfectly steady while he uses me. "The shipment?"
He conducts an entire conversation about drug routes and territory disputes while his cock fills my throat.
The casual dominance of it—discussing murder and money while I gag on him—makes me clench my thighs together desperately.
I'm so wet it's running down my legs.
"Handle it," he says into the phone, then looks down at me. "And make sure the judge's files are destroyed."
Judge's files?
Something about that makes my mind try to focus, but then he thrusts particularly deep, and I can't think about anything except breathing, surviving, needing.
When he finally ends the call, both hands grip my hair. "Now you're going to swallow every drop like the perfect little whore you are."
The degradation shouldn't make me moan around him, but it does.
He speeds up, fucking my face like he was born to do it, using me exactly as promised—like I'm nothing but a hole for his pleasure.
When he comes, he holds my head in place, making me take everything, watching my throat work to swallow.
