Page 17 of His Captive

“Please, Ethan. I want to feel you touching me. I want you to make me come.”

His face suddenly drops.

“Did you just say my name?” he questions, a flame of anger stoking in his eyes, quickly alerting me to my mistake.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” I apologize immediately.

“Stop,” he tells me abruptly.

“What?”

“Stop touching yourself, take your hand away right now,” he orders.

“But I… I’m so close. There’s something, and I… I don’t want to stop.” I shake my head, desperate to experience whatever has been building up inside me.

“Stop!” He raises his voice, slamming his fist on the table, causing me to tear my hand away.

But, it’s too late. I’m too far gone. My pussy continues to pulse despite the absence of my fingers, and without any more encouragement, it clenches tightly. Every muscle at my center squeeze together, sending a wave of pleasure exploding through the pit of my stomach. I force back my head and let out a long moan, one of both relief and fear. Wet sticky heat spills between my legs, soaking my skin and dripping on to the table beneath me.

And when I brave lifting my head back up, Ethan is staring at the mess between my legs, looking pissed as hell.

“Oh dear,” he says, threat in his tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…please don’t be mad.” I feel myself starting to panic, he’s going to punish me, make me pay for my carelessness.

“This won’t do, Lysetta,” he shakes his head slowly.

“Please let me eat. I’ll do better next time I swear. This is all new, and—”

“I want to taste,” he talks over me. Shocking me silent.

“What?”

“You mean pardon,” he corrects.

“Pardon?”

“I want a taste your first orgasm,” he admits.

My head nods, I have no idea why, but I really want him to taste it too. I wonder how his tongue will feel as it slips through my folds and lick away all traces of what he’d made me do to myself.

“Put your finger back inside your pussy and make it wet for me,” he orders.

Disappointment sags heavily in my stomach, but not wanting to piss him off anymore, I push my finger back inside my pussy, covering it in the aftermath of my orgasm. Then hold it out to him.

“Good,” he nods. “Bring them to my lips.”

My shaky hand moves closer, and he snatches hold of my wrist. Ensuring that my finger presses against his full bottom lip, before guiding it all the way around them. He watches me, watching him, his lips glistening with my arousal as my finger trails over them. While his tongue chases after my finger. He feeds it into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks it clean.

“You taste like heaven,” he breathes.

His softness is short-lived, and he soon snaps back to brutal, shaking his head as if he’d been released from some kind of enchantment.

“You have made a mess of my table.” He glances back between my legs.

“I’m sorry.” I blush, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“You will clean up every trace of this mess,”

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