Page 94 of Sing For Us

Once she’s down, she smirks at me and goes to my toy drawer. Fuck, she remembers. My dick is begging to be released from my pants. She returns with handcuffs, and my interest is piqued.

“Put your hands behind your back.” Her seductive voice is directed from her chest, creating a sense of control, confidence, and anticipation. It makes the timbre in her sound more grounded and warm.

My hands are behind my back, and she cuffs me. I can’t move, and that forces me to remain directly in her personal space. Our eye contact remains direct and intense.

“You can’t move or talk. Do you understand me?”

I don’t say anything and let her do whatever she wants to.

Lana goes to my bedside drawer and finds what she’s looking for—a knife. With the weapon in her hand, she strolls over to me. Once she’s standing before me, my breath hitches.

She has never looked this fucking hot.

Her body is glistening with sweat, and it gives her a glow that would make the angels in Heaven jealous. Because I can’t talk or move, all of my other senses become hyper-aware. Every sound she makes—her footsteps, her breathing—takes on heightened significance.

She places the knife underneath my chin, and her happiness is palpable. Lana obviously needed to take control, and who am I to deny her that?

"Not a word," she murmurs, the knife tracing the line of my jaw. "You stay completely silent. From this moment on, I do exactly what I want with you."

A dark, quiet thrill settles in the room. I don't blink, don’t fight the restraints, and don't offer a single protest. I swallow hard, my chest rising and falling in a slow, heavy rhythm that signals my total surrender to her terms.

Nobody needs to save me. I’m right where I want to be.

At the mercy of an angry woman who’s holding a knife.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes.” I want to tell her that she’s right, and it’s killing me that I can’t. That’s probably what she wants to accomplish—me suffering.

Lana starts gliding the knife down my torso and applies pressure. That weight doesn’t stop; it follows until she reaches the top of my pants. I’m so focused on her I didn’t notice my shirt being sliced open. It’s ripped off with her hands, and then she starts on my pants. In a matter of seconds, my pants and boxers are off, and I step out of them.

She tosses the knife aside and gets down on her knees.

Lana looks like a goddess, and I’m her willing follower.

“The only time you can talk is when you want to scream.”

Her hands grip my dick, and she sticks out her tongue. Her wet tongue licks the sides of my shaft, and she isn’t letting me move. Her head is perfectly anchored, and her hand becomes the perfect conductor. She’s moving my dick across her unmoving tongue, sliding the head over the rough texture of her surface. Up and down, then side to side, her grip guiding every stroke.

She’s edging me on, and it’s a different type of sensation—feeling my own body being shifted and dragged over her wet, still tongue solely by the force of her hand.

Beads of sweat are forming at the top of my head and sliding down my face. My heart is beating so fast, I might get a heart attack.

“Mmmm, dirty boy, you like to be licked. I need you slick so you’ll feel good in my cunt.” I’m going to combust all over her face if she keeps on talking like that.

My bedroom has been stripped of any sense of decency long ago, but Lana has blessed it again by getting down on her knees and giving me the pleasure of a lifetime.

She doesn’t talk; she purrs her words against my skin. “Look at you, already trembling.”

Her hot breath against the head of dick makes my eyes roll backward.

“You are so wet, and you taste incredible on my tongue,” she groans, guiding me in a slow, tight circle over her mouth.

“I love feeling how hard you get every time I drag my tongue over your dick.”

If there’s a Heaven with a hundred women who are sweet and nice, while Lana is in Hell…I’d gladly choose to hang out with the devil and her.

“I’m going to paint my tongue with you until you can’t handle it anymore,” she promises me. With both hands, she grabs my dick and takes me in her mouth. Her expert tongue is making circles around the top of my shaft, and I’m close to fucking climax.

Then she takes me deep until my dick hits the back of her throat.