Page 82 of Devious Obsession
He yanks my hair hard enough to make me gasp. He takes that opening and shoves between my lips, filling my mouth. He hits the back of my throat, and I gag around him. I hold his thighs, my nails digging into his skin. I hope it makes him bleed.
I don’t mind it, though. In a way, it feels like I’m spinning out of control. A top let loose on the counter. Except Steele’s the one who set me off, and I have to trust that he’ll keep me from falling, too. Now that he’s learned from his mistakes.
So I stare up at him as he fucks my mouth hard enough to bruise, forcing his way down my throat. He yanks me off him, his fist in my hair, then he uses it to push me forward.
I take the fucking. I suck and swirl when the tip is in my mouth and breathe when he lets me.
What does it say about me that I like this?
He warns me that he’s going to come, and I don’t even think about it. I yank myself off his cock and manually stroke him before he can stop me. I point him at my chest, closing my eyes when hot ropes of cum coat my skin.
His fingers are still tangled in my hair. I hadn’t even realized it, that he let me pull away from him. It would’ve been easy for him to force my head down.
“This is a familiar sight.” He helps me stand.
Yeah, right. Except the last time I had cum on my tits, he left me to deal with it—and all my spilled papers—in the stairwell.
That feels like a lifetime ago.
We go back toward the shower, but before I can get in, he bear hugs me from behind. His body curls over mine. And for a split second, I think,Aw, this is nice.
But then he smears his cum into my skin with his palm, dragging it down between my breasts. He swipes two fingers through it, and his hand disappears between my legs. His other arm keeps me captive against him.
His fingers push into me.
I bite back a groan, more confused than anything.
“Should’ve come in here,” he says in my ear, then kissing the spot just behind it. “When is your period due?”
I narrow my eyes, looking back at him. “Why?”
“Because I’m just trying to figure out if you’re pregnant.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I—” I laugh. “This is ridiculous. I’m getting my period next week. You won’t be able to miss it.”
He adds a third finger inside me, and I shudder.
“I won’t miss it, huh? Someone has a blood kink I don’t know about?”
“Fuck off,” I groan.
“No, now I’m curious.”
I shift, pushing at his arm. Guys are weird about periods, aren’t they? I don’t need his judgment. “All I meant was that you’ll see that downstairs is closed for business next week,” I snap.
He goes silent. And almost still, except for those damn fingers twisting me up. My clit throbs, needing attention to come. But he seems content to torment me like this.
Finally, he says, “I’m not sure why you think I’d be repelled by a little blood. I’ve heard it makes girls more… sensitive.”
I exhale. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t know.”
