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Villain’s Kiss

Page 59

by Lilith Vincent

I breathe out, and he pushes forward. My eyes water as he fills me further than before, thick and insistent, and I make a muffled sound against him.

“Good. Hold me there. Feel that? That’s not all of me. Not yet. But you’re going to get there.”

He pulls back. Lets me breathe.

Then he pushes deeper, and I take it, my throat working around him, tears running down my face. The kitchen floor is hard beneath my knees, but I don’t care about that, because the sounds he’s making now are nothing like his usual controlled self. Every one of them is pulled out of him by me, given to me, and I’m greedy for all of it.

“Again,” he says, when he pulls back. His voice is ragged. “And this time you’re going to take all of me.”

He pushes back in, slow and relentless, filling my throat inch by inch until my lips meet the base of him. “That’s it. You’re taking every inch. So good for me, printsessa.”

The praise moves through me like heat. I’m crying, and I don’t care. I’m on my knees with tears running down my face and his cock buried in my throat, and I am present. I’m right here with him.

He thrusts rhythmically, his hips rolling, barely giving me a moment to catch my breath. My throat stretches around him, and my eyes flutter with it.

“Eyes. On. Me.”

I find his gaze and hold it. I swallow deliberately, and his whole body tightens.

“Perfect,” he breathes, and surges deep once more.

My throat spasms around him, and I gag, my eyes squeezing shut, and I feel him throb hard against my throat in response.

“Cora.” His voice has left control somewhere far behind. “The way your throat grips me when you do that.”

He gives me a moment to breathe and recover, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks.

“Can I feel that again? I want to feel that again.”

I nod, and his hips roll forward, chasing the sensation. I gag, my throat clenching tight around him, tears streaming freely, and the sound I make is desperate and raw.

“Fuck.” His head drops back for one unguarded second. When he looks back down at me, his eyes are black. “Printsessa, what you’re doing to me. I’m going to come right down your throat.”

I keep my tongue moving against him even as he withdraws, working the head of him, and he gasps with ragged desire.

“Good girl.” His thumb swipes the tears from my cheek. “Fuck, Cora. The way your throat takes me.”

The rhythm builds. Each thrust slow and deep, his hand in my hair angling me exactly where he wants me, his eyes on my face the whole time with an attention so complete it feels like being held. I hollow my cheeks on every withdrawal and feel the way his cock swells fractionally harder each time I do it.

His pace quickens. Harder strokes now, fast and urgent, the head deep in the back of my throat on every thrust. My eyes are streaming. His hand is fisted so tight in my hair.

“I’m going to—” His jaw works. His cock throbs against my tongue. “Cora.”

His head tips back, the muscles of his throat cording. His whole body shudders.

He floods my mouth, hot and thick, his taste joining the vanilla. My mouth fills as he pulses on my tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he orders urgently, breathing hard.

He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging over my lips as he withdraws, and takes my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to his. I hold still, my mouth full, my eyes streaming, looking up at him.

“Show me.” His voice is dark and utterly without shame. “Let me see what I gave you.”

I open up, letting him see his cum rolling over my tongue.

The smile he gives me is heated and proprietary. His thumb traces through the mess at the corner of my mouth and pushes it back between my lips.

“Now swallow.”