She undoes my zipper. I adjust my hips to let her pull me out, making her do all the work. The cool air hits my cock. She curls her hand around my root. Squeezes. It feels so good my eyes blur. I give her a steely look. It’s all she gets.
She comes in closer, pushing between my legs. As if they have a will of their own, my hands go to her hair, so dark and silky. She keeps the squeeze on my cock. I want to thrust into her hand, into her face. I want to flip her over on the couch and plunge into her. I want her so bad I think I might implode.
She’s breathing onto my cock now. Fuck. I close my eyes, tip my head back.
She seems like she wants me.
Just empty smells, I tell myself, but some fucked-up part of me doesn’t care. Whoring for her worthless dad, but I don’t care about that, either.
“Mira.” I stroke the back of her hair. “Grab me at the root. Harder.” My voice sounds strangled. I settle both hands onto her hair.
She tightens her hold and licks my cock, ice-cream cone style, pushing waves of heat and need through me. I never wanted anyone more.
“I’m not a good person like you remember,” I warn.
“But you won’t cut off my finger.” It’s a question.
“If you do what I say.”
“Okay.”
It’s hot. It shouldn’t be so hot.
I grab her hair and look hard into her brown eyes. “Look at me when you do it,” I say.
Keeping her doe-like eyes on me, she takes me in her mouth. Just a little bit at first, wetting the tip. I bite the inside of my cheek, to balance things with a little pain.
I’d be lying to say I never imagined this. There was a certain yacht shot Konstantin got hold of, a bunch of Nikolla’s made guys at somebody’s engagement party, a picture like all the rest except for sixteen-year-old Mira in the background in a bikini. Let’s just say that picture was in my stash. But this is so much better. Full-color, full-blast 3-D, her mouth a hot, silky cave. The pleasure is so intense I want to close my eyes, but I don’t, because watching her is so goddamn powerful.
I fight the urge to grab her hair and fuck her face. Not yet.
I slide a finger over her cheek and down her neck. Her skin is perfect. Her lips are twice as beautiful when they’re stretched around my cock. I’m taking her now. It’s nine kinds of wrong.
I wind my hand through her hair, pulling a little, just enough to get her in an obedient mood. Like reins on a horse.
She grips my thigh with her free hand, heat in her eyes, as if she likes this power play thing, too. I tighten. I guide my cock deeper into the warm cave of her mouth. “Suck it,” I growl.
She turns it on—full-blast sucking.
I pull out and go deeper, guiding her head.
She squeezes me at the root like I told her to, sucking me in earnest.
It’s not enough yet. This needs to be right. I told her there was another way, and I’m good for my word.
“Mira—” I stroke her hair. “I’m going to twist your hair up in my fist and really fuck your face, now. It’s going to feel rough, even. But you’re going to let me do it. You’ll let me use you like a whore.”
Something in her eyes changes. She’s scared, but turned on, too. Or maybe that’s my imagination.
I push into her mouth, going deeper, testing her.
She takes me trustingly. She’s not so sure about where I’m going, but she’s the beggar here, not the chooser.
“Have you ever taken a guy rough in the throat?”
Something flares in her eyes.
“Have you?”
“Uh-uh,” she grunts. A no. Of course not. Who would do that to Mira Nikolla? Me, that’s who.
I twist her hair in my fist, giving her a little hurt, getting her ready. “You’re going to feel alarmed and choked when I shove my cock down your throat. It’s how I need it, though. You’re going to relax and let me do whatever I want to you. Got it?”
Warily she grunts her assent.
“It’ll feel wild and messed up, but you’ll see that it’s just another thing.” I nudge her head, thrusting into her mouth. She gags, and I pull out.
“Close your eyes. Relax.” I push in again, slower. “You’re gonna take me. Turn yourself over to me.”
She relaxes her throat. She’s getting it.
“See? That’s good.”
I fuck her face with more force, making her take me deeper. “That hand, it’s a little bit of a cheat, isn’t it? You need to let go of my cock now. I need you to take all of me.”
She lets go and grips my thighs. I tighten my fists on her hair and plunge in deeper. She makes a little sound, but she’s going with it. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel amazing.
I feel like a fucking animal, animated by some prehistoric madness.
It gets even more intense when she turns herself over to my total control. Like she gives up on dignity, on being anything but a thing for my use. It’s un-fucking-believable how hot she is, giving herself over to my control. Trusting a twisted motherfucker like me.
“Close your eyes. Concentrate.” I reach over and grab my phone and my gun. The phone is to record. The gun is to make it look good for the camera. To make it look like I’m forcing her.
She’ll hate me. But it saves her finger.
I hit record and set the phone on the side table, angled just right to get me fucking her face. “You love it like this, don’t you?” I thrust harder, in and out. Tears leak from the sides of her dark lashes.
I’m merciless—I have to be.
I push in harder, hitting resistance. She gags.
“Don’t you fucking gag, Mira. Take it like the whore you are.” Something in her changes, like energy ramping up, fingers digging into my thighs.
The phone records my hand twisting up her hair alongside the gun. It gets her tears. It gets my cock disappearing through her lips over and over.
“Suck harder, bitch,” I say. “You’re mine to use however I want. When I say suck harder, I mean it.”
She sucks harder. I groan.
It looks violent. Like I’m mauling her, like I’m really fucking her up. What that camera doesn’t capture is the energy stoking between us every time I say something. Like she actually likes that. I know I’m getting off.
“That’s right, you fucking whore. Take it!” I shove my cock in long and strong. “You’ll take it in every fucking hole.”
Her fingers tighten some more, tits rubbing hard against my legs.
I keep up in front of the camera, knowing I’m capturing the force, the ugliness, but so much more is happening, like a wave, swelling up, taking the two of us somewhere.
She feels like no woman ever has felt.
Like we’re both getting off on it, like it’s real for a moment.
But it can’t be real—no way.
“I’ll clamp you open and use you like the piece of cockflesh you are,” I gasp. “I’ll fuck everything out of you.”
I clench her hair with my other hand. She softens for me like she knows that’s what I’m needing now. She’s a rag doll for me, letting me have her completely. The feeling of it is un-fucking-believable.
My elbow knocks the phone off the table and onto the floor. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but being lost in her, and she seems like she’s lost in me. I don’t care if it’s an illusion.