“That incredible fucking mouth. I want it on me.” For a moment, I thought he was going to release my hands, which had begun to tingle, but he surprised me again. Straddling my face, he lowered his large, mushroom shaped head to my lips, bumping against them. “Open.”
On a gasp at his intentions, I did and he slid in slowly. My hand wouldn’t be able to stop him this time, and for a moment, I froze.
“I won’t hurt you, little one. Taste me.” Wanting to believe him, I allowed my tongue to circle the circumference of him. My mouth was dry, but began to moisten as a drop of his pre-come escaped. I knew what it was now because over the weeks I’d read about the response of the male anatomy. Since I couldn’t have Jack, I was determined to learn everything about what made him work.
I pressed up, taking him deeper, and he groaned. Running my tongue underneath the bulbous head, I knew there were nerves there that would respond. His harsh growl of pleasure proved I was right, but I wasn’t prepared for him to push further in.
“Fuck, Emily.” He pulled back, realizing what he’d done.
He hadn’t hurt me, and I discovered I liked the press of his shaft deeper inside my mouth. Suckling harder, I worked my head back and forth, attempting to show him without words that I wanted more. I was only taking a few inches of him, and knew there was no way I could take the long length he possessed, but for him, I wanted to try.
His hips began working slowly, pushing forward and retreating with just those few inches and my mouth stretched wide. There was something so sinful about him using me this way that it made me groan. A part of me loved that he was doing this.
His hands gripped the headboard, and I knew he was showing restraint. I wanted to grab that beautiful backside of his and force him in deeper, but all I could do was take what he gave.
“Can you take more?” The tone of his voice was tense, and I understood instinctively that it was hurting him to hold back. I nodded, unable to speak with him filling my mouth.
“Hold on then, baby.” Pressing forward, he slid a few more inches in, stopping when my gag reflex took over. I suckled him as tightly as my lips would allow and my tongue traced his appendage, finding that spot again under his head.
As he began riding my mouth, I wasn’t sure that was the best idea, but he seemed to love it. That in of itself, made me want to give this to him. I relaxed my throat allowing him to slide in even deeper.
“I love fucking your mouth.” Apparently, he did since he let go of some of his control and began sliding in and out, forcing me to use my mind not to panic. Then suddenly he pulled free and was releasing his breath harshly. “That was too close.”
Lifting himself, he grabbed two pillows, and dragged them down to my hips. “Lift for me.” His words were a harsh demand and I complied immediately. The pillows rested directly under my bottom, making me feel more exposed than even my spread legs had.
He moved his head between my legs and brought my body to life again with his mouth and tongue. Almost on the edge, he lifted away and I whimpered.
“I’m going to make you come then fuck that sweet little pussy.” He gave me no time to consider his words, instead his tongue speared my core again frenziedly, and all I could think about was the pleasure he was giving me.
“Oh God, Jack. Please!” I was so close, he plunged several times, then pulled away to suckle that tiny nub of pleasure and I slid over the edge.
I cried out his name and that was all the time I had before he lifted his body over mine, and in one hard thrust made me his. I screamed for another reason then, my body feeling torn apart. Going from extreme pleasure to agonizing pain was such a conflict that I didn’t know what I wanted.
He stilled inside my aching flesh, and I fought back the tears that refused to be damned, instead they trickled down my cheeks. He was so big that he stretched me to the point of anguish. His hips moved slightly and I cried out loudly. “Stop!”
“Forgive me, little one.” His words didn’t match the harshness of his tone, and I clenched every muscle I had, attempting to dispel him, but it only made the pain worse.
“I don’t like this.” I didn’t want to forgive him. If my hands were free, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d punch him for the soreness he inflicted now. Once again, I lifted my hips, attempting to get him off me. It was hell since he only slid deeper inside.
“Don’t fight me. You’ll only make it worse.” That tick was back in his jaw and for the first time I didn’t care if he was angry, this hurt!
I thought he was finally complying with my wishes as he began to slowly slide from my clenching flesh. Instead he pulled almost out and carefully pushed forward again. “No!” I hated this. The sting of my body being forced to accept him again was too much. Why did I even want this earlier?