Page 80 of Deviant Need

“Hey, thanks,” he says, still typing.

He’s focused on whatever he’s doing, attention pulled away from me, and I hate it. I drop to my knees behind the curved booth and go straight for his belt. His hands fly down and catch mine before I can get it undone, and he shoots me a look. “You’re an insatiable little psycho, aren’t you? Can’t get enough of my cock.”

“Give it to me,” I breathe, already working his buckle.

He curses under his breath, unbuckles himself, and pulls his cock out.

“Make it quick before someone sees us.”

He’s soft, so I take him into my mouth immediately and lick up the length of him. He starts swelling across my tongue, and I moan quietly around him. My own hand goes down to my cock, and I pull myself out, already so hard I’m leaking when I wrap around it.

He keeps his face neutral when someone approaches, handing him files across the booth. The second they start talking, I suck harder and let my tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock, dragging it slow and deliberate. His thighs tense under my palms and his breathing stutters.

Hollowing my cheeks, I take him deeper, swirling my tongue around the head while they discuss shipments or numbers or something I don’t care about. His hand flies into my hair and twists hard enough to make my scalp burn, forcing me back just enough to stop me from making him lose it completely.

“Thanks,” he grits out, voice strained.

I fight against his grip, trying to move, trying to push him closer to the edge while this guy stands right there. His fingers tighten in my hair until it hurts and I love it. The moment the guy walks off, he shoves my head down and drives his cock deep into my throat without hesitation.

“Why is it always the quiet ones?” he murmurs down at me. “You get off on the act, don’t you? Playing angel when you’re anything but.”

He thrusts so far into my throat, I gag around him, tears pricking my eyes, but I keep working him over. Swirling and twisting my tongue, hollowing my cheeks, trying to make him lose control while people walk past just feet away. My hand works my own cock in rough strokes, precum slicking my palm and making everything wetter, easier. The risk of getting caught makes my pulse race and my cock throb.

“Mikhail,” Mother’s voice comes from somewhere behind me, and we freeze, and he lets go of my hair.

I stay exactly where I am, his cock still deep in my mouth, not moving a muscle. My lips are stretched around him, and I can feel him throbbing against my tongue, but I don’t pull off. She’s right there on the other side of the booth, close enough I could reach out and touch the wood separating us.

“Where’s Daniil?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can just wait here until he comes back,” she says, and I hear fabric rustling like she’s settling in.

“Just check the bar. He’s probably over there,” he says and clears his throat.

“Are you feeling alright? You look flushed.”

“Yes,” he grits out, voice strained. “Just tired.”

I swallow around him and feel his cock throb in my mouth from the movement, then shift slightly, my mouth adjusting around his length even though I’m trying to stay perfectly still. His eyes nearly roll back, and when he looks down at me, his nostrils flare, his jaw clenching as he fights for control. The look on his face is desperate and strained, like he’s using every ounce of control not to thrust into my throat right now.

“This is important, Mikhail. The florist needs confirmation tonight.”

“I know. Go find him then.”

“Fine,” she says with irritation. “But if those papers aren’t in my hands in ten minutes, I’m holding both of you responsible.”

I start moving again the second she walks away, taking him deeper and hollowing my cheeks. His hand flies into my hair and grips tight, warning me to slow down, but I don’t. I take him so deep his cock hits the back of my throat and I gag around him.

He curses under his breath and looks down at me, his eyes wild. “You keep trying to get me into trouble.”

His grip tightens in my hair until my scalp burns, and I can feel how hard he’s fighting not to lose control. I swallow around him, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, shoving himself deeper into my throat.

Mikhail freezes when a worker approaches and starts going through papers on the desk. “I just need to look through these, boss.”

He nods, his jaw tight, and pretends to focus on the documents in front of him.

I pick up my pace immediately, bobbing on his cock, using my tongue to swirl around the head before sinking down again. His breathing gets rougher, and he’s struggling to keep quiet and to stay still when I know he wants to fuck my throat. His hand tightens brutally in my hair, and his other hand grips the desk edge so hard his knuckles go white.