Page 46

She doesn’t answer, simply lowers to the ground when I release her neck and unzips me.
Fucking hell.
Listen, this isn’t my first blow job—probably not even my first hundredth blow job—but watching thenakedwoman I’ve kidnapped completely submit and take my cock out has me reaching out and gripping the cabinet next to me.
Jesus fuck.
I have to be in hell. Shit like this does not happen in heaven. Not to men like me.
Kyra lets my pants fall to the floor and begins to stroke my shaft. Her hand snakes around and cups my balls, then her tongue swipes over the precum dripping from the end.
Then she takes me fully into her mouth.
“Finger your wet pussy,” I order as I moan.
Christ.
Submission has never turned me on, but I’ve got full control of this woman and I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life.
This was not the plan, but I’m not sorry, and I’m not telling a soul. Travis needs to get out of my head. This is consensual. I gave her a choice. As much as anyone has when they’ve been kidnapped.
Fuck it. I’m going to hell, anyway.
Kyra’s throat works me like a pro, over and over, as she tries to maintain eye contact. Those blue eyes are thick with moisture. While she sucks me, her fingers pump inside her own sex.
She moans.
“Don’t you come.” I warn and questioning eyes meet mine.
I want your orgasm, sweetheart.
I can’t tell her how much I want to eat out her pussy and taste more of her juices. How much I want to watch her fall apart because I’m the one making her fly off the cliff. Owning her screams.
With that image in my mind, suddenly it takes priority to my own orgasm. Gripping her dark locks, I push her down harder on my cock and fuck her throat fast.
“That’s it. Fuck. Yes. Good girl.” I cry as she gags, saliva sliding from her mouth. My balls tighten as fire spreads through me, and I release inside Kyra’s mouth.
Pulling out, she coughs as I take my cock and finish on her face.
I’m not done.
As she kneels in front of me covered in my come, I know I’m not even close to being fucking done with her.
I help her stand as she wipes her mouth.
Like an obsessed man, I lift her by the hips and take two steps, dropping her on the bed.
“Lie down and legs apart.” I order huskily, ripping my shirt and tie off, then toss them across the room.
“You don’t have to,” Kyra says.
I cup one breast and flick her nipple as I kneel over her. Then lean in and suck hard on the peak.
“This isn’t a chore.” I lock our eyes so she knows that I mean what I say next. “Say stop and I will.”
Somehow.
I might have to hand her my gun, but I will stop.