Page 59 of Sire

“Why?” He gazes down at where I’m touching him, at where he’s getting rock hard.

“Because it’syourtruth. It’s who you are and what you desire, and the world is shitty and lonely enough. We all deserve the love we need to survive.”

He cups my jaw. “You deserve it, too, Wren. You deserve love and whatever you want.”

“All I know is that I wantyou.” I tickle my fingertips under the elastic. The way I can make him softly flinch excites me. “I want to see you, Sire, and touch you and taste you before you’re with Zar tonight.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, staring at me, then his swollen erection. “Fuck, Angel, you’re killing me.”

“Will you let me kill your cock in my mouth?”

“Goddamn, Wren.” He grabs the marble countertop behind him. “I’m going to fucking lose it when I feel you touch my dick, you know that, right? You’ve never done it. You’ve never seen a real cock or touched a hard dick or ever tasted cum, and it drives me fucking insane that I’ll be the first for you. Maybe that’s perverted as hell, but it’s how I feel: dirty, filthy, and perverted for you, and I love every fucking thing I plan to do to you.”

“Like what?” My hand is trembling, teasing and tugging at the elastic of his boxers.

“Like, I’ve been there, done that, and I don’t want other women. I’ll be faithful and devoted to you. Yes, I’m traditional that way, and I can’t help it. You’ll be my wife and queen. But other men? Fuck, I’ll never share you. You belong tome. But I’ll initiate you. I’ll let you explore a little. It’s only fair since I got to do it.”

I’m overwhelmed and dizzy, imagining it, but I anchor to him, grabbing his flexing abs. “I only want to exploreyouright now. Please?”

His voice is gruff and strained, “Touch what you want, Angel.”

I gaze down, and his length is so rigid. Pressed at an anglein his tight boxers, his tip reaches his hip bone, and I don’t know what to do, so I let curiosity fuel my desire, my first touch as I wrap my hand over his shaft.Oh my God.It’s so hard and warm.I squeeze it and it twitches.

“Shit, Wren,” he hisses.

I gasp, jerking my hand away. “Did I hurt you?”

“Fuck, no,” he growls. “Do it again, Angel. Put your hand on my dick and stroke it.”

I obey, stroking his shaft over his boxers, and when I use both hands, he groans, watching me, “Fuck, yes, my little virgin. Are you getting wet touching my hard dick?”

“Yes.” My voice trembles. I’m not nervous, I’m too aroused. “Yes, I’m wet.”

I’m still wearing the cream Chanel minidress I wore to his church service, along with a new pair of pink lace panties, and now they’re so slick from touching him, I love it.

“Pull my boxers down.” He’s still grabbing the countertop behind him. “Let me watch you wrap your hands around your first hard dick.”

I tug at his elastic, but his erection? His tip? What if I hurt him?

“Do I just…”

“Pull them down,” he urges. “It won’t hurt. I’ll get off watching my dick spring so fucking hard for you.”

I tug them down, shocked at the sight. “My God, it’s a thick, curving snake!”

Oh shit. I said that aloud.

He chuckles, his rigid dick bouncing with delight. “Yes, Angel. I have a slight up curve. Your pussy’s going to love it one day. It’ll hit the perfect spot inside that tight little cunt of yours.”

I don’t know what he means, but I believe him.

“Do I do this?” I glide my fingertip under his swollen tip, lifting his pearly drop to my lips. Gazing into his eyes, I suckmy first taste of him off my fingertip. “Mmm,” I moan. “Salty.”

“My dirty little angel.” A grin curls his lips. “Taste my cum again.”

“But how do I…” I wrap both hands around his hard, naked shaft, squeezing tight and slowly stroking it. “Do I make your dick drip like this?”

“Oh God.” He throws his chin up. “Oh, fuck, yes, Wren, you do. Jerk it like that.”