Page 15
Story: Princes of Ash
“Calm down,” he hisses. There’s a tug on my scalp, his fingers wound into a hard fist around my hair. “Bite down, and I’ll make you regret it. Loosen that jaw, beautiful.” I strain to peer up into his eyes, but it’s too dark. All I can make out is the sway of his hair as he rocks into my mouth. It makes me gag, and the grip on my hair tightens. “Finally awake, huh?” Pace’s low chuckle turns my stomach to stone. “I was wondering if you would. My cock’s been in your mouth for almost an hour.”
I can feel it, too, the ache at the hinge of my jaw drawing a soft, pained sound. Warm fingers graze along my throat, lifting my chin. Sticky heat coats my lips, followed by the loss of air.
There’s little else to feel beyond the hard poke of Pace’s erect cock as it slams into the back of my throat, his balls pressed against my mouth. I gasp, desperate for air, but inhale hair and flesh. He’s on top of me, knees straddling my head. My arms are trapped beneath his legs, and I claw at them, but they’re as thick and sturdy as the trunk of a tree.
My cries are muffled, covered by his grunts as his cock thrusts in and out.
I inhale through my nose, fighting off a gag. I’m used to Pace and even Wicker using my mouth to get ready to make a deposit, but the pointed, shallow drive of his hips tells me to brace myself.
Because with Pace, it’s never easy.
The vibration of my cry makes him shudder. “Fuck,” he groans, tipping his head back. The light from the fireplace finds the angles of his face, illuminating the edge of a cheekbone. His lips are parted as he pants out quiet, mindless words. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this. Not like the others. Not just weeks.Years, Rosi. Wanna come down your tight throat.”
I push my hips off the bed as if that could help me escape the intrusion. But I know it can’t. Pace doesn’t want a blowjob. He wants his cock warmed, drawn to the edge over and over again. It’s a test of wills—his or mine, I’m never sure. I didn’t see it at first. I just thought he was the creepy fucker that stalked me freshman year. But it’s so much clearer now. People think Wicker is the manipulative one, but they’re wrong. Pace is the one who makes this happen.
In the groggy web of half-wakefulness, an instinct kicks in. It’s new and frightening, the way I adjust to the knowledge that this is my last night here, and I just need to get through it.
One more night.
If I can satisfy Pace, then it’ll be over for a whole month.
I flatten my tongue down the ridge of his cock and give him a firm suck. In response, he slams a palm against the headboard, spitting a curse. The hand tangled in my hair tips my head up for a thrust, the taste of him salty and thick.
“You should have seen their faces when we watched you on that video with Lucia,” he says, running his other hand down the length of my hair. He may as well be playing with a doll. “They didn’t even see it coming. For a second there, they really bought into this whole Princess thing. Wanted it. Wantedyou. We finally see you now, though.” Head tilting, he pitches his next words like a curious question. “You know that, right? I’ve never hidden the fact that I watch you, have I? That you’re constantly monitored? Yet, for some reason, you refused to believe how far my reach extends.” He leans forward, and the movement pushes his cock deeper down my throat. “You can’t hide from me, Rosi. There are no limits to what I see. None.”
I try to shake my head—the thought is as repellant as the baby being Wicker’s or Lex’s—but he holds me still, emitting a rough sound. His fingers twisting in my hair is the second signal that he’s close, then the tightening of his jaw. His thrusts grow erratic, painfully rocking in my mouth. I think about all those times he came inside me, pumping far longer than either Wicker or Lex.
He’s going to fucking drown me.
He pops off like a rocket, the surge thick and warm on the root of my tongue. I can barely breathe from the size of him, and this only makes it worse. I choke, inhaling through my nose in an attempt not to suffocate.
“Swallow, swallow,” he’s saying, half coaching me through it and half lost in his own ecstasy, eyes lazy slits as his brow knits up. I try, working my throat around the flood, because I know how fast I need to get it down to keep up with the sheer volume of it, slick and bitter.
But just when I think I’ve got it under control, another stream follows.
Panic claws at my lungs, eyes wide as I stare up at him.
The way he caresses my cheek is contrastingly tender. “Just a little more,” he whispers. “I know it’s your first time.” Thumb moving to my chin, he holds my jaw open even when self-preservation tries to clamp it shut. He pumps in, catching a wayward stream from the corner of my mouth. Sighing, he pushes it back through my lips alongside his pulsing cock. “That’a girl. Take it all.”
I shudder, the cum thick and unsettling as it hits my churning stomach.
He finishes with a slow, rolling growl, his cock giving one last twitch as he feeds me the last surge.
The second he slips from my mouth, I sputter, wrenching my head to the side to gasp in lungfuls of air. I barely feel him climbing off and flopping to the bed beside me because I’m too busy curling over the side of the mattress, coughing, feeling the fluid rising back up.
“Anything that comes back up, you’ll swallow it back,” he says. “Understand?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing my stomach to settle.
I stay like that for minutes, not moving again until I’m sure that nothing is coming back up. Reaching over, I flick on the giant wall sconce, daring to look beside me.
Pace hasn’t left.
He’s stretched out in the middle of the massive bed with his hands propped behind his neck. His dark eyes are so heavy, they’re almost closed, one corner of his lips tipped up into a satisfied expression. He’s kicked up a knee, emphasizing the curve of the spent cock flopped beside his hip. With the jewels adorning the headboard above him, it might be the most like a Prince Pace has ever looked—lascivious and spoiled. On his face is the ease of a man who just dumped a gallon of cum down his enemy's throat.
“Get out.” My demand is hoarse and full of tight anger.
“And break the covenants?” His chest jerks with a dry chuckle. “I think not.”
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