Chapter 191
Warily, I slide his stiffness out of my mouth, and a cough escapes,
breaking the heavy silence. I look up to find his chest heaving, rising and falling in a frantic rhythm, his half–closed eyes still intoxicated
by pleasure.
He blinks, and reality catches up to him. I see the rage emerge,
burning in his gaze–rage for having yielded, for having surrendered,
even if only for moments. The contrast makes me smile, slow and
satisfied.
“Thanks for breakfast, my love,” I provoke, my voice dripping with
sarcasm,
I rise from the floor calmly, wiping the corner of my lips, and watch
as he turns away, ignoring my words. He grabs his uniform and begins
to dress in a hurry, every gesture steeped in irritation. His
indifference only makes everything more entertaining, and a low
laugh escapes me–soft, almost intimate, but filled with mockery.
He walks to the bed and lies down with his back to me. I can see his
body trembling with rage, every muscle rigid in pure denial. I bring
my hand to my mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to break out,
savoring the moment in silence.
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I lift my eyes to the ceiling and run my tongue over my lips, still
feeling the taste of him in my mouth.
The flavor remains sweet and addictive.
Ah… 1 can hardly wait for him to continue with this pathetic pretense
of obedience,
1 am taking advantage of every second, and I am going to take
advantage even more.
1 slide my fingers over the buttons of my uniform, undoing them
calmly, without haste.
The fabric slides down my body until it falls to the floor. The semen
stains on the uniform catch my eye for a moment, but I ignore them. I
walk to the shower, turn on the valve, and let the hot water stream
over me.
I glance toward the bed. He is still facing away, rigid, his entire body
betraying the rage he is trying to suffocate. The sight draws a slow
smile from me. I close my eyes and let myself sink into the memory of
his brutality minutes ago, the way he dominated my mouth.
A shiver runs through my body, cruel and pleasurable, as if the
memory had a life of its own. My breathing becomes heavy and
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irregular. Unable to contain myself, I slide my hand down to my cock,
already rigid and pulsing, begging for more.
I start slowly, with movements that soon gain strength, accelerating
as the desire grows. My eyes remain fixed on his broad back, and I notice when the skin on the back of his neck breaks into goosebumps.
The detail pulls a satisfied smile from me; he realizes what I am
doing, but he chooses not to look.
A moan escapes my lips as my imagination takes over: my cock buried deep in his little ass, taking him completely, wrenching sounds from
him that he would pretend to hate.
“Magnus…” The name comes out in a louder moan, loaded with
pleasure.
I do not care about holding back.
I want him to hear, to know how much I want him.
I remember our first time, his mouth wrapping around my hardness,
hot, wet, and perfect. A hoarse groan escapes me, followed by another, even louder, as the memory moves forward: the sensation of being buried in his delicious entrance, the addictive tightness, the
soft heat that seemed to want to trap me forever.
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My breathing becomes irregular; the pleasure grows until it borders
on the unbearable. I accelerate my movements, my eyes descending
toward his round, tempting buttocks. The vision snatches away my
last thread of control, and then I reach my orgasm, taken by an
overwhelming wave that explodes inside me.
The cum runs down to the floor, carried by the hot water sliding
toward the drain. I take a deep breath, my chest rising and falling in a
frantic rhythm, as I run my hand through my soaked hair, pushing it
back. A slow smile is born on my lips–not of relief, but of pure
anticipation.
Soon, I will go back to using that delicious hole.
And when that moment comes, it will not be resistance that I hear,
but pleading.
He is going to beg.
