Page 92 of Violent Possession

He slowly runs his tongue over the tip, spreading saliva, and smiles.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” I gasp, breathless. “Let me come, Alex...”

He swallows me again, this time deep, sucking hard, his mouth hot and closed over half of my fucking sanity. His tongue presses the underside as he sucks, and the hand at the base doesn’t stop, sliding in a rhythm that only breaks me.

“Fuck, don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—“ The groan tears through my throat as I feel the orgasm rise so fast it makes me dizzy. My whole body arches, desperate. “Alexei… !” He holds me tight, keeps me in his mouth, and the suction increases at the exact moment.

I cum hard, with long, uncontrollable spasms, into his mouth. The pleasure burns my entire body. It’s stronger, deeper than usual; the accumulation of all his torture exploding all at once.

“Fuck—“ my voice fails, broken, moans mixed with nervous laughter.

He continues, sucking slowly between each spasm to prolong, to extract more, to extend the delicious hell until the last tremor.

When there’s finally nothing left, I fall back onto the mattress, sweaty, fucked. I can barely breathe when he decides to pull away. Slowly, his mouth opens and releases me. A thin stream of saliva and cum shines between us, connecting his mouth to my dick. The sight is so fucking pornographic it almost gets me hard again.

Alexei runs his tongue over the corner of his mouth, but doesn’t clean it all. He’s in no hurry to hide the mess; on the contrary, he lets me see. His red lips, his dirty chin, the cum running down that Russian prince face that should never be doing this. I’m caught by the contrast: royalty fucked with my mess.

I reach out, run my thumb over the trail running down his chin, spreading it even more. It feels damp against my skin, warm. I laugh, hoarsely, still breathless.

“Fuck…” my voice falters. “That perfect little prince face dripping with my cum… I could get used to this.”

Alexei allows the touch, lets me run my thumb over his mouth as if I were the one in control.

“It seems you respond better to possession than to gentleness,” he says, approaching me. I welcome him happily.

I pull him to me, kissing him deeply. I taste my own flavor on his tongue, and it feels profane to stain the expensive tobacco that was already there like this.

I feel his body tense against my leg. He’s hard as hell. The sight of his composure cracking, of his desire so obvious, gives me a surge of power that’s as good as an orgasm.

“Let me touch you now, boss,” I say against his mouth. “Let me make you come.”

I kiss him again, my hand sliding down his belly, feeling the muscles contract under my touch.

“But I only have one hand to work with,” I say, with a shitty smile against his mouth. “I’ll have to charge double.”

I hear a laugh. A hoarse, genuine, surprised sound that vibrates through his chest to mine. His eyes shine with an amusement I didn’t know he possessed.

“I’ll consider it an investment,” he says, hoarsely.

I slide my hand down to undo his expensive belt, the button, the zipper. His hand meets mine and he helps me, replacing the work my right hand would do.

I free him from the fabric, and he’s big, hard. I didn’t look at him properly last time, in such a hurry to just keep going. He’s fuckingdelicious.

When I embrace him, the first thing Alexei does is give me an order.

“Slowly,” he whispers, with the same authority as always. “And look at me.”

I obey. My eyes stay fixed on his while my hand starts a slow, firm rhythm.

“Use your thumb,” he instructs. “Like this.” His free hand covers mine for an instant, adjusting the grip, the angle, before retreating.

I follow his instructions, fascinated. He’s teaching me how to touch him. And, fuck, I want to be the best student he’s ever had.

My hand moves in a rhythm that isn’t mine, but feels right. It’shisrhythm. Slow, firm. I feel the muscles of his thigh contract under my knee. His breathing is now shorter, heavier.

“God, you feel so big… is this how you like it, boss?” I whisper.