Page 36 of Bad Attitude
“Why?”
“Because I said so. I want you to taste my cum, have it inside your body, and not staining your sheets.” His palm finds my nipple and rubs over it, then he takes it between finger and thumb, and tweaks it. I bite at my lip. I thought we were done; we’re not done. “I’ll be gentle,” he assures me, as an afterthought.
I test his grip on my wrists. There’s no give. His hand tightens, and his mouth quirks at the corner.
“Are you fighting me?” he asks. His hand leaves my breast, trailing lightly downward, over mystomach, to where my thighs are pressed closed. He gives my vulva a three-fingered slap, sharp but not too hard. A promise, nothing more, yet it still makes my body jerk. “Playful hellcat. You can fight; you’ll lose.” His eyes have darkened again. “That’s what you want, isn’t it.”
It’s not phrased like a question. He’s telling me he’s recognized it. And maybe he’s not wrong, either. Maybe Idowant to rise to the challenge and test him. That’s how I do everything else; why not him? Or maybe he knows me better than I know myself—at least here, in this moment, in this act.
He sure has a lot more experience than I do.
I struggle against his hold, just to see if I can get free. One wrist twists, almost escaping, and in response, his hand slaps down on my mons, harder than before. I gasp and go still, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Open,” he says, and there’s a dangerous note of warning in his tone.
Slowly, I spread my legs.
“Good girl.” His fingers dip between, running through my slick, sensitive folds, and this time there’s a lot more of his cum to collect, oozing out of me. He lifts two fingers to my mouth, but I press my lips closed, turning my head to the side. I’m pushing him, I know I am. What will he do now?
“If this is wasted, I’m going to punish you,” he tells me. His voice is quiet, and all the more menacing for it. “It’s your choice, Genesis.”
My actual name. That somehow makes it all themore serious.
And some choice. Do as he says, or be punished.
I’ve never been this vulnerable in my life, and I know it. I don’t want him topunishme. I don’t think I’d like it. Yet I can’t help my body’s response to the thought, to his words, to the images they produce. What will he do? Spank my pussy, my ass? More? Worse? My stomach flips, my pussy clenches as if recalling him inside me. In reflex, I swallow, and it makes me aware how much my mouth is watering. The taste of him is still on my tongue, filling my mouth, and his fingers hover over my face, more of his cum waiting to be fed to me.
Jesus. I’m lying in my bed, being asked to lick the cum off the fingers of a man who’s just fucked me to three orgasms, who I only met a week ago. No, not even asked. Told.Commanded.
And I’m going to do it. It’s inevitable.
Why, Raven?
I don’t know why; I can’t answer myself. His charisma? The force of his dominance? It doesn’t matter; I’m still going to do it.
He knows it, too. He’s watching me, waiting.
I turn my face back, lips parting, and Declan pushes his fingers into my mouth, not even letting me lick them clean but rubbing them over my tongue. Penetrating my mouth as he has my body, forcing me to taste him.
My experience is limited in this too, but I have tasted cum before. Twice. I wasn’t a fan.
“Suck them clean,” he says, voice soft. I’m alreadycomplying, lips closing around his digits, tongue lapping at his skin.
This is different from those times I’ve had cum in my mouth. It’s not the taste so much—though he tastes better than I remember from those experiences. It’s the insistence of it, the puredominanceof his act. Pinning me down, ordering my obedience, threatening me if I don’t.
Is he right? Is this whatIwanted? Or what he wants?
Or both?
Whatever it is, it makes the experience so muchmore. This isn’t about a man coming in my mouth, it’s about…submission. Yes, that’s the word.
Why does my body tighten at that thought?
“Again,” Declan murmurs, and his fingers leave my mouth, returning to my pussy. This time, he slides them inside me, and it pulls a whimper from me. I’m sensitive within, a mild ache that’s not even uncomfortable, just a reminder of what he’s done. Then his fingers rub over my g-spot, and my hips twitch, my hands clenching where he holds my wrists. “So beautiful,” he says, and brings his fingers back to my mouth.
I don’t fight him this time; we’ve already established the rules. He lets me suck his cum off his fingers and lick them clean without saying anything, only watching me as I perform this task.
“Good girl,” he says when I’m done, and maybe I’ve now earned that praise.
