Page 6 of Gambler's Conceit

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Page 6 of Gambler's Conceit

“Somebody was bad at controlling their whip,” Caleb says, zero emotion in his voice.

No, someone just didn’t care, but I don’t correct him.

I wish he would give me something to work with, but his words are too flat for me to analyze. That’s a bad sign. I need to be able to read him, to figure out how to work this to my advantage, but he’s too damn good at hiding what he’s thinking.

I shrug, pretending I’m not uncomfortable with the assessment. “I bet you know how to handle one much, much better,” I purr.

Caleb looks me in the eyes, his hands still on my body. “I do.” He suddenly rakes his nails across my hip, and I let out a sharp gasp.

The pain is mild, nothing compared to what I’ve endured in the past, but it’s unexpected. My cock twitches in response.

Fuck.

Caleb’s lips curve into a slight smirk. “I was going to offer to be gentle, but maybe I shouldn’t.”

I swallow hard, tongue darting out to lick my lips. “No, you shouldn’t,” I agree.

It’s been a long time since it hasn’t hurt.

It’s been even longer since I haven’t wanted it to.

“And me without all my tools.” Caleb chuckles darkly and traces the scratch marks he’d just left. “For another time. For now, you can get me hard. With your mouth.”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

The fabric of his suit pants is soft, well-made, and it’s clear he spares no expense on his clothing. Even his underwear are fancy, I discover as I make quick work of his belt and his boxer briefs to get his cock out.

It’s impressive, with a nice heft to it that I weigh in my hand. Just the right size, with a nice, subtle curve, and it’s easy to forget that this isn’t just another day of more of the same.

“Mm,” I murmur in approval before taking the head of it into my mouth. He’s already partially erect, and under my ministrations, his cock hardens even more. It’s something I pride myself on—the ability to get a man ready in no time at all—and it seems he’s no less susceptible to my skills than any other.

He grabs my head and pushes me further onto his cock. I relax my throat, letting him go deeper, and he takes advantage of it. I’m taking him so deep his balls are resting against my chin, and I swallow around him over and over again until I elicit a groan from his lips.

It’s only when I need to draw a breath that I pull back off with an obscene, all-too-familiar sound.

Caleb drags his wet cock across my cheek. “No gag reflex at all?”

I shake my head. “Nope.” I smirk at him. “Unless you want me to pretend to have one? I can choke and gasp and tear up all around your big, thick cock if you want.”

He laughs and twists his finger in my hair, pulling hard enough to coax a soft grunt from me. “That’s laying it on a bit thick. Maybe I should find you something bigger to suck on, just to see how much it takes to get you to choke properly.”

Maybe I should’ve pretended to struggle with taking his cock down. It would’ve flattered him, and he’d have gotten to believe he was just that big—or that I’m not that talented. Maybe I haven’t been going about this the right way at all.

Maybe in my desperation to get him off and get this over with, I’m being careless.

“If that’s what you want.” I bat my lashes at him. “I did sayanything, after all, didn’t I?”

“You changed your tune fast.” Caleb lets go of my hair and pushes me away with his foot. “Let’s see how well you cleaned yourself. Spread those cheeks for me.”

He should be clouded by lust already, not thinking clearly enough to analyze what I’m doing. Of course, the same could be said in reverse, too, but I haven’t had time to sink into submission properly—and I don’t really want to.

I let him think I lost my balance, falling onto my hands and knees without trying to catch myself, then lift my ass in the air. I pull my ass cheeks apart so he can see my hole. Normally, I’d purr something clever, but he’s not falling for the usual tricks and traps.

Yet.

Caleb places his foot—still wearing leather shoes—on my ass. The heel digs against my balls. “How did you end up hitchhiking in the middle of the desert?”

I’d known he was eventually going to ask, but I hadn’t thought it would be in the middle of sex. It’s disorienting, and I only manage to get out a simple, “What?”




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