Page 47 of His Haunted Desire
I rub against him, always aware of his throbbing manhood. “I suppose you can’t go to the ball like this…”
His eyes glint with hunger. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Just… wait.”
I walk away. Find my mask and put it on. When I turn back, he’s done the same, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Sit on the bed,” I whisper.
“Ask me properly.”
“Please sit on the bed,sir.”
He sits on the bed, his dick clearly outlined in his pants, pressing at the zipper like he’s trying to burst free. My core aches, and my clit tingles as though demanding attention.
As I walk across the room, my body tingles with the rustling of my dress against my skin. His gaze never leaves me, eyes staring hungrily from behind his mask.
“What do you want me to do, sir?”
“Make me explode,” he snarls. “In whichever way you think best.”
I feel unbelievably sexy as I approach him. No one’s ever looked at me like this before. When I fall to my knees in front of the bed, in front of him, he makes a choking sound like a starving animal who’s finally about to eat.
My hands tremble slightly as I reach for his zipper. Not with nerves, but with effort…
The effort of trying to stop. The effort of knowing this could be a mistake.
Then my hand is on the front of his pants. I’m rubbing up and down, feeling his swollen thickness. He groans and grabs big handfuls of the bedcovers, trembling like he’s holding himself back.
“Fuck, Aurora,” he groans. “That feels…”
“Good, sir?”
“Good doesn’t even come close.”
“What do you want me to do next, sir?” I murmur.
“Want,” he growls. “It’s notwant, Aurora, not when my cock feels like it’s going to explode. I fuckingneedyou to take my dick out and stroke and suck it like your life depends on it. I need you to keep going until you feel my come flowing down your throat… then keep going. I need you to swallow every last drop.”
His savage tone sends fresh shivers through me. My hand trembles as I undo his belt, pull down his zipper, then pull down his pants and underwear.
His manhood springs free, with a dollop of precome on the end, his veins bulging as a sign of his wild lust. When I wrap my hand around his shaft, he groans.
“Suck it, Aurora. Make me come.”
“Yes, sir.”
The situation suddenly becomes simple. I don’t have to doubt or wonder or umm or ahh. There’s no space for it when he’s giving me such clear instructions. All I need to worry about is his huge hardness.
I stroke him up and down, loving the moaning noises he makes, loving the fact that he has to grab big handfuls of the sheets as if he’s afraid he’s going to take off.
Leaning forward, I taste his precome, sucking his head.
My sex aches. My hole is soaked, my underwear suddenly uncomfortable.
“Take as much of me as you can in your gorgeous mouth,” he grunts.
“Yes…” I lick and kiss his tip. “Sir.”
