Page 66 of Blaire

I don't know what to say or do, so I just stare at his chest, wondering... filtering these vibes coming off him in electric waves.

Lifting my chin with a single finger, he orders me to look up at him, then he grips my hip again.

“I want you,” he says sensitively, glancing all over my face, promise and restrain in his expression. “You know I do.”

I drop my eyes to the floor between us, everything in my body tightening with anxiety. I reluctantly want him too when he's touching me—it's so fucked up—and it makes me sick. I should hate him. Just because he's handsome it doesn't make what he's doing to me okay.

We're silent for a while. He's watching me—I can feel it. I can feel every-fucking-thing now.

“Stop making me feel guilty, Blaire,” he says, his voice now void of emotion. “You're my plaything, nothing more.”

“I'm not making you feel-”

A hand fists the back of my hair, causing me to yelp, and Charlie pushes me down to my knees. “Suck my cock and I won't fuck you.”

My heart leaps into my throat.

It's an ultimatum, and one that I'm going to take if it prevents him from having my ass, but I can't admit I'm happy. He started to show kindness yesterday... we found our mutual ground... he apologized...

Maybe he's regretting his apology.

I don't know why, but that hurts, and I feel like such a fool for trying to make myself believe him.

Shutting off, I don't even think. I let my thoughts escape me.

———

I fumble to unzip Charlie's jeans, careful not to make a sound when opening his belt. The sound of a belt reminds me of Maksim and I can't think of him right now.

I pull down his black boxer briefs in time with lifting up his Tee. His length juts free, long, thick, and hard, swollen with veins. A mixture of sensations trickle through me. He's so robust and hairy all over, his pubic hair meeting with a thin line of black dusty hair below his navel. His stomach is a work of art, not like those athletic men who have ironing board stomachs. Charlie is buff, made of raw chiseled abs.

Something in me clenches and warm liquid surges through me, gathering between my legs. I recognize it as arousal now, but I don't know what the fuck it's all about. He isn't even... you know... teasing me down there.

I glance up at him, at the taut look of desire on his face. He's waiting.

Not using my hands—my master taught me to suck his cock with no hands—I shut my eyes and run my tongue down the length of Charlie's cock, swallowing a few inches of him in my mouth. He tastes like body wash where he hasn't long showered, but he smells all manly and musky, his skin soft yet broad with solid veins. I find it all so bizarrely appealing that my sex throbs, making me conscious of how tight my trousers are.

I try to ignore the desire thriving inside me, focusing on satisfying Charlie, but it's so hard. I've never felt this power of desire for a man before him.

I pull back, then I take another few inches of Charlie, wrapping my lips completely around him, causing my cheeks to ache because he's so thick. He moans with zeal, his grip in my hair tightening. It makes my scalp tear, though I try not to tense up too much so I don't end up biting him or something.

Back, and then I gulp him right down this time, his crown hitting the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he emits a curse, gasping out, and the sensations in me are no longer trickling. They're erupting, burning all over my body. I'm not completely sure, but I think I like this, having Charlie under my spell for once.

I fold my hands behind my back, curl my lips against my teeth, and suck back and forth, settling in to a leveled, satisfying rhythm, his cock smoothly gliding against my lips because it's inundated in my saliva.

Charlie mutters another violent curse under his breath. I can't resist peering up at him. Our eyes meet. His are heavy, a dark shade of blue because his pupils are expanding. He's so fucking gorgeous when intoxicated, lips slightly parted to accommodate faster breaths.

He cups my cheek with his free hand and strokes under my eye, his other hand still in my hair. He's back to being soft with me. I bask in his tenderness, sighing however I can as I mouth-fuck him.

Another deep suck, then his cock throbs and pre-cum melts in my mouth. He's salty, on the verge of reaching his summit. I swallow before pushing him to the apex of my throat, blocking my air passage, but then he slips down my throat opening, causing me to gag. My lips now against his pubic hair, Charlie's entire body trembles with lust fueled anger and want.

I choke with watery eyes and pull back, saliva coating my chin, but he doesn't seem to like that. Holding my cheek in one hand, my hair in his other, he starts fucking my throat, rippling his hips back and forth, making me retch over and over. He's losing control. I can feel it in him.

Using my hands, I press against his hips because I cannot breathe for long periods of time. I gasp for air in a dizzy state, then he's right inside my throat again, swelling in my air passage.

“You're so...” he groans out, his face tight, teeth clenched. “I'm not sure I'll ever be able to give you back to—Fuck!” he spasms, his cock pulsing warm, thick liquid down my throat.