Page 61 of Forbidden Fruit
“Fuck, Peach,” he breathes in awe. “You’re so beautifullike this. So vulnerable.” His hand runs down my back, a gentle caress that makes me arch into his touch. Iamvulnerable, completely at his mercy, and yet I’ve never felt safer, more protected.
He smacks my ass, hard enough to sting, and I yelp, the sound echoing in the room. I can feel the heat radiating from where his hand connected, and I know it’s going to leave a mark.
“Perfect,” he mutters, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. He walks around the bench until he’s standing in front of me, his eyes dark and intense as they rake over my bound form. That’s when I realize I’m perfectly aligned with his cock. My mouth goes dry as I remember the sheer size of him.
I lift my head to look at him, and he bends down, pulling out a chin rest and positioning it under my face to support my head. “Don’t look at me like that, baby,” he murmurs with a mix of amusement and desire. “Your fear is such a turn-on.” He reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants and boxer briefs, pulling them down in one fluid motion and stepping out of them. His cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s even more intimidating up close, thick and hard, and long, with two pulsating veins protruding along the sides. My heart races as I realize what he’s expecting from me.
But I want this. I want to show him how much I can take, how much I’m willing to give. I want to be everything he desires, and the thought of pleasing him, of hearing him groan and moan because of me, sends a rush of arousal straight to my core. I can do this. Iwilldo this. For him.
I brace myself on the chin rest, feeling the cold leather against my skin. It forces me to keep my head up, my eyes level with his throbbing erection. I can hear my own breathing, shaky and uneven, as he strokes himself slowly, watchingme with that predatory look that makes me feel like prey, and I love it.
“Look at you,” he says, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful, bound and helpless, waiting to take me in your mouth.” His hand moves to my hair, fingers threading through it gently before tugging lightly, just enough to make me whimper. “Do you have any idea how much I want to ruin you?”
I shiver at his words, the heat in his gaze, the raw need in his voice. “Please, Sir,” I whisper, my voice trembling. I’m not sure what I’m asking for, but I know I need it. I need him to take control, to push me beyond my limits.
“Open,” he commands.
And I do. My lips part for him as I try to relax my jaw, even though nerves still twist tight in my stomach.
A dark, satisfied expression spreads across his face like he’s already won.
“Come on, Peach,” he drawls. “You’re gonna have to open wider than that if you want to take me.”
He brushes a thumb along my bottom lip, gaze locked on my mouth like he’s imagining every filthy thing he’s about to do with it.
“You’re not scared, are you?” He cocks his head like he already knows the answer. “You want this. I can see it in those eyes. But I’m not going easy on that pretty little mouth just because you’re nervous.”
He leans in, voice dropping lower. “Now try again. Wider. Like a good girl.”
I do exactly what he says, parting my lips further, stretching for him, offering myself without a word. His smirk deepens, like he knew I’d obey eventually.
“Attagirl.”
Then he starts slow, teasing me, sliding just the tip of hiscock between my lips, letting me taste him. I flick my tongue over the head, savoring the silky smoothness of his skin and the slight saltiness of his pre-cum. His hand fists tighter in my hair, and I moan around him, my body straining uselessly against the cuffs.
I want to touch him. To pull him deeper. To feel everything.
“Good girl,” he growls, a dark praise that hits straight between my legs. “Take more, Peach. I want to see you struggle.”
Then he pushes in deeper, stretching my mouth, inch by inch, filling me more than I ever thought I could take. My jaw aches, my eyes water. And still, I want more.
He pulls back, just enough to let me breathe, then slides forward again, deeper this time. I gag slightly.
“You can do it, Peach,” he murmurs, his free hand stroking gently through my hair. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more.”
That mix of filth and praise wrecks me. The stretch. The heat. His voice. It’s too much, and not enough.
I blink up at him, tears clinging to my lashes, and he looks down at me like I’m something sacred.His.
He brushes the wetness on my cheek, collecting the tear before it can fall. The touch is impossibly gentle.
“Shhh… I know.” His words are roughened by something that sounds too much like tenderness. “I know.”
The sound of his voice floods through me as if he’s coaxing the ache itself to quiet. His gaze doesn’t waver. There’s pride there, yes, but also reverence, a kind of unspoken worship that makes my chest ache.
“That’s it,” he grunts, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm now, fucking my mouth in a way that’s both roughand controlled. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Taking me so deep, like a good. Fucking. Girl. My good fucking girl!”
I moan around him, my body aching with desire, my nipples hard against the cold leather of the bench, my pussy dripping with need. I want him inside me, filling me completely, owning me in every way. But for now, I’m content to be here, bound for him, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, my world narrowing down to the feel of him, the sound of his pleasure, the intoxicating taste of him on my tongue.
