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Wicked Ties(56)

By:Shayla Black


his domination, he had to take total charge of Morgan. There could be no vacillation. He

could show no weakness, no lack of control, only a reassurance that brooked no refusal.

Asserting his dominance was key to persuading her to listen to her body. It was the

only way he could take her from that bastard Brandon. Then, after a hard fuck, after her

complete surrender, after she admitted she needed a dominant man and left her

backstabbing fiancé, he’d be satisfied.

“On your knees, cher.”

Her gaze flew to his, her blue eyes filled with an interesting mixture of panic and lust.

She was processing his request, trying to discern what he wanted…but she knew.

Just as he knew she might use the safe word rather than take him in her mouth. The

thought chafed him. He wanted— needed—to feel her tongue caressing his cock, her lips

stretching wide to take him. To see her bowing, submissive, accepting, aroused.

“Sir?”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. Either follow the directions or use the safe

word.”

A pinched mouth and the downward slant of fire-red brows told him without words

that she was rebellious and frustrated. But her eyes, still sharp with desire, told him she

was torn.

That expression encompassed everything he loved about looking at her, being with

her. Her dichotomy—an innocent’s experience with a wanton’s needs—drove him to

dangerous lust. A consuming desire he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. This went

beyond the psychological high of controlling, beyond the pure physical ease of a

woman’s body. In this moment, he wanted to own her, inside and out, rule her body and

seize her soul.

Suddenly, Jack wondered if he’d be able to fuck Morgan enough to get her out of his

system before he let her go.

Finally, she cast her gaze down—and dropped slowly to her knees.

She was so close, Jack could feel her exhalations on his jeans-covered cock. It took

every ounce of self-control not to rip at his pants and toss them away, so he could feel her

breath, her mouth, on him. Lust throbbed even harder through his erection at the

thought.

“Better. As a reward, you may speak. What is it, Morgan?”

“I don’t know much about oral sex.”

“How do you know that’s what I want?”

“I assumed. If that is what you want, I think you should know, the one time I did it,

he didn’t…”

“Come in your mouth?”

A fresh flush stole up her cheeks. “No.”

The information blasted Jack in the gut like a prize fighter’s punch. So even

straightlaced Brandon hadn’t availed himself of this beauty’s sin-inspiring mouth. He

knew from this morning’s encounter against the door that the idea excited her. He

wanted Morgan to experience acts that aroused her. But the notion of being the first man

to fill her tongue with his seed made his balls draw up even tighter, the lust crashing

through him even more urgent. It was primitive and possessive and illogical, but

something in him responded violently to the knowledge that no other man had ever

taken her in such a way.

A glance down told him that Morgan wasn’t repulsed by his demand, but uncertain.

Her anxiety made her lapis eyes stand out in her pale face. She chewed her bottom lip

nervously.

“My responsibility in dominating is not just to order you around. It’s to pleasure you.

To guide you. It starts with trust. You must place yours in me, cher. I will see you

through, provide whatever you need. Do you understand?”

Morgan’s gaze left his face, traveled down his torso, then rested on the insistent

erection pushing against his jeans, right in front of her face. Her tongue peeked out to

smooth over her bottom lip again.

Jack drew in a sharp breath, reeling back the thoughts that, soon, her pretty pink

tongue could be laving the head of his cock. Lust twisted his gut, turning it into

unbreakable knots of need. Merde! He was testing her as much as he was torturing

himself.

“Yes…sir.”

He barely managed to mumble a reply before he unsnapped his jeans and eased

down the zipper. His cock sprang free, into his hand. He slowly stroked the length of it

for her gaze. Morgan zeroed in on his hard flesh, her expression uncertain and hot. She

wanted to touch him; her face, like a kid with her face pressed against a candy store

window, told him that. Fisting his cock, he waited, watching her greedy eyes follow his

hand.

When a drop of moisture beaded on the head of his cock and she licked her lips at the

sight, Jack eased his free hand around her head, anchoring it under her hair. The soft

strands fell over his fingers like silk as he cupped her nape. He thumbed the soft skin at