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Panic surges for a new reason. The blouse is school issue, nothing special, but he’s threatening my favourite bra. “Please don’t. I can’t—”

Afford it.But the words stick in my throat.

Tongue-tied, my cheeks heat with shame and I blow out a puff of air.

“No cutting your bra. Got it.”

I nod, and he withdraws while I peel off my cardigan, the ruined blouse, and my bra, folding it neatly on top. His gaze never strays from me, the intensity back. The appreciation.

From what I know, Kincaid goes through multiple girls a week and I wonder if this is how he always acts. Staring like they’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

His rough thumb brushes my bare nipple until it stiffens further, becoming so sensitive it aches. He bends, closing his mouth over the hard bud, flicking it with his tongue while his large palm supports me, thick fingers splayed across my back.

I gasp, head spinning as the suction of his mouth twangs a cord inside me, sending a rush of sensations through my body.

My back arches and he pulls my hips closer, the wet warmth of his mouth a balm to the coarser surface of his tongue.

“You’re so sensitive,” he mumbles, moving from one breast to another, then back again. “I love it.”

Wave after wave of pleasure spills across me. This is nothing like it was with Ezra and there’s never been another boy to compare.

I tip my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling and bite my lip as his stubble brushes against my sensitive skin. I don’t know where the knife has gone, but his hands are empty as they caress my body. His fingers delve between my legs, knuckle rubbing against a growing damp patch in my panties. I tilt my hips, chasing more, then whimper as he withdraws, lifting me from the massage table, and setting me on my feet.

“Now, kneel,” he commands, and I obey, barely aware of the hard floor under my bare knees as my gaze comes level with the bulge of his sweatpants.

He hooks his thumb through the elasticised waistband, pulling it down until his cock springs free.

I gape.

There were rumours but… I shake my head. My chest tightens until it’s painful to breathe.

His cock ishuge.

Cupping my chin to hold me steady, he rubs the head against my lips, letting out a satisfied hiss. “Do you want to hold me?”

I nod, wanting to please him. His cock isn’t just long, it’s girthy. When I grasp hold, it dwarfs my hands, turning them doll sized.

Kincaid grunts, hips thrusting towards me as I wrap my fingers around him, surprised at the velvet softness of his skin. Large veins twine along his length, making his cock look rougher than it is.

“You’ll do fine,” he says in a gentle tone, and I try to believe him. “Just take it slow.”

I open my mouth and lean forward… then chicken out at the last moment, turning my head aside so my cheek brushes against him instead, and he laughs softly. “It’s really not that scary.”

“Says the giant,” I mutter, and he chuckles harder, fingers again combing through my hair.

And it’s his easy manner than enables me to try again. This time, I manage to take him inside, my lips closing over the fat tip and giving a tentative suck.

He hums and the sound sends a wave of static energy coursing over my head, making me shiver as I let him slide deeper. Even two inches feels big given his girth and saliva pools, then spills from my mouth.

“Don’t worry about making a mess,” he rumbles while my eyelids flutter. “I’ll clean you up once we’re done, good as new.”

I fight to take more of him inside—the extra enough to make my nose prickle and my eyes water, but the added inch nothing compared to the rest of his cock.

A shudder works through me and my jaw locks in place. Open but not able to move wider.

Panic rises, burning through the oxygen until my lungs strain for more.

His fingertips spread across the crown of my head, gently pressing. “Eyes on me.” The calm tone soothes me as I follow his request, straining to meet the gaze so high above. “That’s my good girl.”