Page 38 of Twisted Pact

“Like that?” I ask.

“Exactly like that.”

I do it again and circle the head with my tongue while my hand works the base. He groans low in his throat, and the sound makes me bolder. Makes me want to hear it again.

I take him into my mouth, just the tip at first. My lips stretch around him, and the sensation is foreign but not unpleasant. I watch his face as I take him deeper. His eyes flutter closed. His breathing becomes ragged.

“Fuck, Mila.”

I pull back and look up at him. “Tell me what you want.”

“Take me deeper. Use your hand on what you can’t fit.”

I follow his instructions, hollowing my cheeks and sucking while my hand strokes in time with my mouth. He’s too big to take all the way. My jaw already aches from the stretch, but judging by the sounds he’s making, I’m doing something right.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Just like that.”

His hand threads through my hair. Not pushing or forcing, just holding me there while I find my rhythm. The gentleness surprises me. I expected him to take control. To use my mouth for his pleasure without care for my comfort.

Instead, he lets me set the pace.

I experiment with my movements. Swirl my tongue around the head. Suck harder on the upstroke. Take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat, and I have to pull back to breathe.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.

I watch his face while I work him. The way his brow furrows with concentration, and how his lips part on each exhale. All the control he maintains so carefully is crumbling in my mouth.

This isn’t about submission; this is power. My power over him.

The realization makes me wetter, and my thighs clench together as I imagine him inside me again. Filling me. Stretching me. Making me feel things I’ve never felt.

I moan around his cock, and the vibration makes him curse.

“You’re enjoying this,” he comments. Not a question. An observation.

I am. God help me, I am. The taste of him on my tongue. The weight of him in my mouth. The way his entire body responds to every movement I make.

I increase my pace and take him deeper. Saliva drips down my chin, and I must look wrecked, but I don’t care.

I hold eye contact while I suck him, forcing his breathing to come in harsh pants.

“You’re going to make me come,” he warns.

Good. I want to watch him fall apart. Want to see the moment his famous control shatters.

I double my efforts, sucking harder and stroking faster. My other hand moves to cup his balls, and he nearly comes off the floor.

“Fuck. Mila, I’m?—”

His hand tightens in my hair, and his hips start moving in shallow thrusts that match the rhythm of my mouth.

I take him deeper, relax my throat, and let him slide further than I thought possible. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, but I don’t stop.

“I’m going to come,” he grits out. “Pull back if you don’t want?—”

I don’t pull back, I just look up at him and take him even deeper.

He groans, long and low, and then his cock pulses in my mouth as he comes. The taste is bitter and salty, and I swallow without thinking. Once, twice, until he’s finished and starting to soften.