Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
This is degeneracy.
“But not just any cock.” He gathers my hair in a fist as he thrusts into my mouth. “My cock.”
I groan, deep-throating him as far back as possible, remembering to breathe through my nose.
“From now on, this mouth won’t be fucked by any other cock but mine.” He drives deeper, holding his cock at the back of my throat. “These lips will only wear pink for me.”
For a second, I can’t breathe.
I’m choking and spluttering, slapping my hands against his muscular thighs, clawing at his jeans.
Then the strangest thing happens.
Pressure builds in my pussy, violent and sudden, as tears stream down my cheeks.
“Mmm. You look beautiful when broken.” He pulls out his cock and I choke, coughing, the excessive saliva, precum, snot, and tears mixing in an unceremonious mess.
There’s no way I look beautiful.
But as I stare at him, panting, I can see his wide chest heaving and his eyes darkening to two orbits of reckless desire.
“Open.” He taps his wet crown against my mouth again, and I don’t think twice, opening it wide as he thrusts all the way to the back of my throat.
I don’t attempt to put in any effort. I just let him choke me—fuck my throat, actually, using his grip on my hair to guide my head whichever way he pleases.
“Damn. God fucking dammit.” He’s so high on lust, so hard and brutal, I’m gasping, and it’s not in response to what he’s doing.
My own thighs are shaking, rubbing, searching for something…anything.
“Why does your mouth feel so fucking good, Violet?” He’s mad, and so close to coming, I can feel the anger and lust and hate emanating off him.
And I find solace in his anger because he wants me. But I’m mad at myself for finding his dark brutality so alluring right now.
The way he touches me, uses me, makes me feel as if he can’t get enough of me, is turning me delirious.
“Why you, of all people?” He grunts, his every muscle tightening and coiling, and then he pauses because he notices.
Of course he notices.
His gaze slides to my thighs that are rubbing together, and I want to stop. I really do, but I just need something more.
“Jesus Christ. You got turned on being throat-fucked?”
I try to shake my head, but I feel him getting even harder in my mouth—which I would’ve thought was impossible—and something inside me brightens and explodes in a myriad of colors I’ve never experienced before.
A gasp leaves me when he pushes his boot between my legs and presses it against my core. Even with the jeans and my panties as a barrier, the pressure electrifies me, and I hum against his dick.
“Mmm. I love how red your face is.” Thrust. “You’re a natural at taking my cock, sweetheart.”
“Mfff.” I’m moaning, squeezing my thighs against his boot, needing the pressure and the fucked-up pleasure only this man can give me.
“Ride it.” He slides his boot up and down my pussy. “Show me how much you want to come, Violet.”
I don’t even know what’s happening to me, and I don’t allow myself to think.
Holding on to his leg, I lift myself up and down against the tip of his boot. The pressure makes me lightheaded, or maybe it’s his cock in my mouth or the lustful power he’s looking at me with.
“Good girl.” He holds his cock at the back of my throat, my face so close to his groin, but I don’t stop moving.
Rubbing.
Grinding.
Moaning.
Falling.
I don’t recognize myself anymore, but I don’t have to, and I don’t want to.
If anything, I stop thinking altogether when his rough voice cuts through my mind. “You’re doing so well.”
I kind of melt. I don’t know how or why his praise affects me, but it does, and then I’m coming, the rush overtaking me like a storm. But I remember to open my mouth wider as I ride his boot, feeling my wetness dampening my jeans.
“Fuck, Violet. Fuuuck.”
He cracks.
His dick swells and bursts, flooding the back of my throat.
I swallow it, and as I watch him, his face tight, his abs contracting beneath his shirt, another orgasm hits me like a tidal wave.
Rushing and pulling and turning me delirious. Knowing he came because of me.
I’m making the Jude Callahan, worshiped hockey god and unfeeling monster, come in pulses in my mouth.
Cum trickles on either side of my mouth despite my attempts to swallow as much as possible, and I’m flinching, too sensitive after the orgasm.
Jude pulls his cock from my mouth, and I kind of…suck around the crown, which makes him release a gruff sound.
I don’t know why I do it, really. A thank-you? The need for this moment to stay a little longer before reality hits?
He seems to be as lost about the reason as I am, but he strokes his fingers along my jaw, gathering the cum and thrusting it back into my mouth.