by Celia Crown
“Prettiest pussy…” he hums, sending vibration into my walls and traveling straight through my throbbing clit.
“It’s mine,” Luke sneers, shoving his tongue inside my unused hole and curling it to break the damn that I have been trying so hard to hold onto.
My nails bite into the fabric, his echoing order for me to stay still turns out to be harder than I thought and I’m straining in need against the pillows. Luke’s sucking and licking my pussy like he doesn’t need to breathe; his teeth nip with the intonation of danger lurking in his sharp canines as he wiggles his thick tongue into my small hole.
He drinks and hums, and I’m clenching at the small intrusion that strokes upward to pull at my soaked folds.
“More, please,” I pant; breathing eludes me just like my thoughts.
A pinch of pain instinctively has my walls squeezing around his tongue. His hands should join in to make the experience to make me a trembling mess. He doesn’t, and I’m too wound uptight to ask why he’s not pushing his fingers inside my pussy.
“Not yet, you’re not ready,” his breath fans over my clit, kissing the nub with a firm lick.
Luke closes his lips around the bundle of nerves again and sucks harshly, running his rough tongue over my tiny clit before shoving his tongue deep into my hole. It’s a forceful parting that shoots a shrill of pain while his strong nose nudges my clit.
When he inhales the scent of my juices, it’s all going to hell. Luke smelling my pussy is downright dirty and too arousing that it’s the final thing that pushes me over the edge of a frighteningly high cliff.
The knot in my belly unravels and slick floods Luke’s tongue as he welcomes the juices into his mouth as he growls so loud that I’m writhing on the bed to ride out the shaking orgasm.
Luke’s tongue cleans the filthy mess that I made, “Not yet.”
His soft whisper comes with a mean suck on my clit, “Your little cunt is not ready for my big cock just yet.”
I’m scared of the addiction I would come to love when his fat cock stretches my pussy.
Chapter Six
Luke
I am a simple man.
As simple as it gets with a high-risk job, flames of hell, and daunting paperwork.
Beaming sunlight flashes through dark curtains as a thin ray of sun creaks in the silent dream world. My heavy body laid on top of the bed, the heat from the sun radiates off my bare back as I hiss at the intense scorching from concentrated red particles through the glass window.
The coolness from underneath my body lures me into slumber as I inhale an alluring scent of settle sweetness. The cushion under my strong arm is softer and less dense than the king-sized bed I had slept for many nights.
I vaguely remember I chose this specific bed for the firmness; my weight would have sunk the bed if I hadn’t gotten a firm mattress.
My brows knot, my brain is too broken down to comprehend the light breathing under me. Despite my moody tenseness during the day, morning had always been the worst. Anyone who crosses me—ranks mean nothing—would suffer my wrath, verbally or physically.
It all depended on how terrible I feel.
I shift into another comfortable position while still on my stomach. I adjust my weight to breathe properly before I die of suffocation. My callous hand tightens on the creamy delicacy, and I give another squeeze to find whatever it is that made me have an excellent night of sleep that I desperately needed.
A small mewl came from underneath me.
Reluctantly, I crack open an eye. My blurred vision maneuvers slowly in the dark bedroom. I can barely make out the mob of black hair and angelic features. Large amber eyes gaze bewilderedly and innocently at me. Her lashes flutter when my large hand on her deliciously round tit clenches.
Her waist sinks further into the bed as my body tenses. Those long lashes fully awaken with a wrinkle to her little nose.
I narrow my eyes as my arm quickly, with minimal effort, draws her body closer to trap her in the warmth between my bed and I. The masculine instinct in me flares at her dainty expression when she’s overwhelmed with the sudden movements. I can hardly resist the urge to devour her.
I don’t. I made a promise to myself for the sake of her that I would let her get used to me before I do more than eat her cunt.
This whole situation began approximately two weeks ago. She has gotten a taste of what it feels like to have her first orgasm, and Anna has a whole new world opened to her.
She would come over to my apartment whenever her roommate and the Chief of the Police Department want their affairs to happen again, and it’s a common practice for me to already have my door unlocked when she finishes her work as a food blogger.
It’s amazing how many eerie recipes she has, and people love them. They may look unappetizing to me, but she has stellar reviews on her recipes and creations.
When she finishes her work, she comes over to my apartment, and if it’s locked, it’s most likely that I’m stuck at work. I would give her a call and tell her to let herself into my home and wait for me. I don’t care how much paperwork I have to do or what fire I have to put out. I go to bed with her in my arms and wake up to her bird’s nest of a hairstyle.
It became a habit of hers, and she still prefers my apartment over hers. I have been there, and there are more things in her room than my entire unit.
Ever since she started to spend more time at my place, she has a presence here with her toothbrush, clothes in my drawers and closet, and ten bottles of skincare. I had offhandedly commented that she didn’t need that much, but she was so offended that she forced me to taste her newest addition to her blog.
I never brought up the religious routine of her face again.
Day by day, her body voluntary becomes attached to me, and she doesn’t like to be gone from my side for a long period of time. She’s especially pouty when I leave for work, she voices her worry for my safety every morning, and she seals her prayer of protection with a kiss.
I have never cared about returning home, but Anna is here to greet me when I come back from a long day. It’s a breath of fresh air that keeps me going after all the horrors I have seen in the world. I have lost the lives of civilians and my own men, who are courageous and selfless.
“It’s too early,” her lips tremble with distress, “No.”
Anna doesn’t know what she’s saying as her voice trails off with a slurred giggle. She slowly shifts and wraps her bare legs around one of mine to snuggle deeper into my chest. Her entire mindset is neglected and gone from the morning lights.
It’s as if being in a man’s room was the most natural thing. She did not care one bit the first night we slept in this bed. I had to drill into her naïve mind that she can’t climb into bed with men just because they use a little bit of coercion. I had to admit that part because it was true and I hadn’t given her much choice.
We are dating, though, but that doesn’t make it right.
This morning is the day that I start a new training for her body to take my cock. I have used my mouth on her pretty, little pussy more times than I can count, and she is excited to present her body to me since she knows that I’m more than happy to have her thighs pressed to my ears.
“Anna,” I say her name.
It’s part of her training that gets her body to learn what I want through the tone of my voice, and it teaches her to pay attention to the context of things instead of blindingly going head first into situations where she can get into trouble.
Anna falls to her back and mewls softly when she opens her legs; the cover pools to the side of the bed where it leaves our bodies to the mercy of the cool room. She wears my clothes to sleep, and I keep my briefs on just as I always do. It’s too soon for her to be exposed to something as big as my cock.
My tongue wets my bottom lip as I peer down at her wet pussy, so beautifully parted and pink with her virginity intact. Dripping and begging for attention, Anna squirms with a breathy plea for me to do anything
.
I run a finger over her wet folds, dipping under the hood of her hard clit and flicking it up to pull a gasp from her lips.
I decide that I should try something different today, and it’s much easier when her pussy is already soaking my finger. Her small frame is used to my touches that she’s practically wet all the time with her panties being a constant in my laundry basket.
Taking her clit to my tongue, I roll it with vigor as her hips buck wildly. Her level of sensitivity is higher than normal, and this comes as an advantage to me. She becomes an obedient, little girl when I don’t touch her since she knows that she has to be my good girl to get the rewards from my mouth.
It doesn’t stop her from misbehaving sometimes when she would eat desserts as her meals for the day, but I put a stop to that because it’s too dangerous for her health to not have proper nutrition and I’d be damned if I let her continue on my watch.
Her tiny fingers curl into my hair and yank it, the strands are prickling my skull, but it’s the thrill of having her writhing under me that stops me from responding to her pleas. I want to do things my way, and it’s all for the best when she gets to cum. I know her body better than she does, and I will not back down from that.
I control every aspect of her.
I find her pulsing, little hole with my tongue and push in. Feeling her muscles contract and quiver has my cock surging forward with thickness. I must be a saint with this kind of patience; two weeks without relief from the cum boiling to the tip, but I keep it in because I want every drop to be in her virgin cunt.
Being able to survive this long without ripping her clothes off is all thanks to the adrenaline I expel when I’m at work and the sheer strength of my heart that’s adamant that I cannot hurt her or it’s going to stop itself from beating.
I nip at her clit, closing my lips and bringing a strong hum down to wreck her entire body with shivers as she cries my name. Her orgasm comes fast, she can’t build up her tolerance or time, and she gets hypersensitive very soon.
Though I do notice that she doesn’t care; she loves to cum on my tongue and the strange line between pleasure and pain when I thrum her clit.
Anna has a low pain tolerance, and yet she loves a pinch of pain that comes from my hands.
If it’s going to hurt, I might as well do it now. Angling my hand, I press one finger inside her tight hole; her muscles flutter, and her hips jolt with a yelp.
With a distressed noise and a whine, she tips her hip back, and my finger comes out with slick covering it. Her chest shudders with a sigh as she lets her knees fall to the side of the bed with the position she’s familiar, spread open and vulnerable for me to have access to.
“Anna,” I warn with a growl.
She pulls a pillow to her face and muffles her complaining voice, “It feels weird!”
“It’s your first time having a finger inside,” I remind her, and she stubbornly stuffs her face into the pillow.
I have full access to her twitching pussy, but I will never coerce her into something she’s not ready for. However, I can make her want it. I know she is just confused and inexperienced; she just needs to get used to having something in her pussy.
I gently pat her sensitive clit with my wet finger as she coughs out a startled moan. “I-I’m scared.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of,” I reassure her as I fold my body over hers, tucking her to my chest as her cold shoulder hits my skin.
Her face buries in my chest, and she sighs when I slowly rub her clit; the remnant of her orgasm slowly ebbs away for a new wave of sensation when her body shakes again. It’s the trembling mewls stumbling from her full lips and big, teary eyes that give me the chance to try again.
Watching her face, I focus on those tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and my cock turns into steel with my mind reeling in wicked thoughts as to how I can get her to cry more when I’m fucking her tight pussy.
Oh, the anticipation is incinerating what little good that’s left of me.
“That’s it,” I praise with a kiss to her soft hair, “That’s my good, little girl.”
I drag the bottom of my palm down her clit as I tentatively slide a finger inside her silken walls. It physically hurts me to know that I’ll have to wait until I can guarantee she’s had enough time to recover for me to fully fuck the cum into her fertile cunt.
Tomorrow, I hold back the white planes of my grin.
“See, not so bad,” I feel her shudders as I curl my finger to press on her spongy walls. “You can take another one, can’t you?”
She sniffs and considers it for a second, “Are you going to be mad if I can’t?”
“No.”
My quick and curt answer startles her as her glassy amber eyes peer up at me; she moans as I dig the heel of my palm into her clit.
I have made it abundantly clear that I may look like I’m coercing her into things, but I’m steering her into directions that she has never ventured down before and I will be the guide that helps her discover what she likes with the right push.
Those two are very different things with many overlaps.
The only thing she needs to remember is that I will never hurt her.
“Okay,” she swallows, eyes apprehensive and cautious, “I want to try for you.”
My heart swells, “Good girl.”
I have lost count how many times she’s stained my sheets with her slick, and I would have left the scent of her embedded onto the mattress if she wasn’t so mortified by it. It’s a recall of her memories when she would cum on my tongue.
Another finger rubs her soft folds, gently coming to the side of my other finger as they sink into her straining hole together. It’s tight, and I strain my ears to ear the hitch of her breath. I stop to let her get used to having two fingers inside her pulsating walls.
Watching her face is a guilty pleasure of mine, the way she reflectively lowers her gaze as a sign of submissiveness and when she silently asks for my permission to do something when she doesn’t know where I stand.
I let her have full reign to my kitchen, but that’s only when I have all the knives locked in the drawer. Anna is clumsy. I do not want her to hurt herself. I have no doubt that she has experience with knives, but I have seen her handle a knife before and it’s not the safest practiced hand I have seen.
Anna sinks her teeth into her lower lip and twitches, inching closer to her orgasm as I spread my fingers to tug on her walls to get her to understand that her little cunt is small, but she can take my cock if she has patience.
That encouragement should be told to me. I need it more than ever when she whispers my name with a broken moan that tears the glass ambers of her eyes into the havoc of an orgasm that soils my sheets again.
“I-is this what sex feels like?” her eyes widen in awe as I withdraw my fingers from her swollen folds and press them to her opened mouth.
The juices drip from my fingers and smear onto her tongue; her brows curl, and she dutifully sucks them clean with her pink tongue.
“Do you want my cock, Anna?” I ask, pressing harder on her tongue as she tastes herself on me.
I would give her a kiss every time I devour her cunt, and she’s gotten used to that innocent act being defiled by the salacious intent.
“Yeah…” she slurs with a sweet smile, “I want you…”
If I don’t have her tiny pussy wrapped around my cock soon, I will go mad with this sinful manipulation to get her to spread her legs. I will not stoop that low, but that snarky voice in my head comments that I need to make her mine in every sense to ward off other men who want to take my place.
Maybe tomorrow is too far away.
“Stay in my apartment today,” I curl an arm under her neck and tuck her into my arms as the stickiness from my fingers smears on the shirt sinking to her soft curves.
It’s one of the things I noticed about her when we first met. Her size and semi-independent demeanor that yells at me to take care of her before he
r gullibility falls into a predator’s hand. Trying to lift a box with her puny little arms is practical at best; she should be ashamed to put on that brave face when I can see the tremors from her arms.
“I have work,” she murmurs sleepily, her droopy eyes and a lopped smile warms my heart.
The coldness from the bedroom is overthrown by the rising temperature from the autumn sunlight. Our bodies produce a lot more heat as Anna rubs her stomach on the bulge of my briefs.
“Luke…” she tips her head up and the upset ambers waters, “What about you?”
“I’m fine.” I kiss her forehead, threading her silky, black hair through my calloused fingers.
Her hair is too soft for something as barbaric as my hands to come near them, but she lets me touch more than her hair, and it’s a privilege that’s solely mine.
From the beginning to the very end of time, no other men will put their hands on her if they value their lives.
“I want to help you,” she smooches a kiss to my neck, “You always make me feel good. I want to take care of you too!”
I chuckle; the sound is deep and crass from the deep sleep that I had. My sleeping schedule and condition has improved significantly with Anna in my arms. It’s the sound of her breathing and the slight thump of her little heart that lures me to sleep.
My jobs have lingering haunts from years of working, and some things don’t leave me no matter how many mandatory psychological evaluation and therapy sessions I was given to pass the assessment to continue to be on the job.
Being taken care of is an absurd concept that I have never thought of. I’m always the one who takes care of everything and being the Chief of the Fire Department comes with more paperwork than a goddamn lawyer.
“You already do,” I tell her, and her mystified expression is enough to tell me that she doesn’t know the effect she has on me.
“I do?” she draws together her eyebrows adorably and squints her eyes at me.
My arm under her neck bends to let my fingers claw at the mop of hair at the back of her neck, the tilt of the angle steals a throaty mewl with lusty amber hues swirling in a bright swirl of colors.
