Loving the Beast (Beauty)

“Want to fuck your mouth.” Then he seemed to realize what he said, and added, “Don’t want to scare you though.”


He wanted to fuck her mouth? The idea made her hot. He usually let her control the pace, the depth. She’d never really questioned why.

Apparently because he didn’t want to scare her.

“You won’t scare me,” she promised.

He stared at her, his eyes dark and wondering. She could see his hesitation in those eyes, but she could also see how much he wanted this.

“Not like this,” he finally said. “Lie down.”

She lay down, uncertain what he meant until he knelt over her, her arms trapped at her sides, her mouth inches from his cock. It was a startling perspective, being towered over by him, by the closeness of his cock and his shoulders blocking the light from the window, his face cast in shadows.

And it made her a liar, because it scared her—just a little.

But she knew that however dominating he might seem, however vulnerable this made her, he would never hurt her. Maybe that was what love was really about. Feeling fear but knowing it would be all right. Maybe that was trust. She’d always longed for safety, the certainty that she would never be alone, never crying, never somehow hurt by her employer but without the power to defend herself.

There was no such thing as certainty. That was what she’d learned by growing up, by reading about the world, by studying history. There was only pain and hope, only fear and trust, only the hard cock in her mouth and the tender look from a man who loved her.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She nodded, unable to speak. He wasn’t deep yet, but she felt full. And trapped. Perfectly contained from both inside and out, held on a single breath.

“I’m going to start slow,” he promised.

And he kept his promise, of course he did. He rocked his hips, pushing deeper into her mouth. Once she felt him at the back of her throat, when it was almost too far, he pulled back. Again and again, he fucked her mouth. Just like he’d promised. Just like he’d needed.

His whole body seemed to tremble with the restraint, but he didn’t go faster or harder. He didn’t hurt her.

“Baby, you’re so fucking hot. So wet. Like a goddamn dream.”

All she could do was blink up at him. And use her tongue in cruel thanks.

He gasped. “Jesus. I want to go deeper. You can take it.”

She swallowed and looked away, because she wasn’t sure she could. Her lips were already stretched apart. He already brushed the back of her throat when he pushed in. It wasn’t all of him, but she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

His expression was soft with understanding. “You can do this, baby. Just give me a couple more inches. I need you to nod for me. I won’t take it.”

Nerves raced down her spine, but she wanted to do this. She nodded.

After studying her for a moment, he pushed deeper. “Now, baby. Relax for me.”

Then he pushed deeper still, and when he would have stopped before, pulled back, he kept going instead. For an awful second she fought the intrusion. Even with her eyes locked on his, knowing he was going to be gentle, she struggled to get her arms free, to push him away.

Just as quickly the moment passed and she was able to relax.

He held himself there for three beats and then pulled out slowly, letting her breathe again. She gasped air around his cock.

“One more time,” he said gently. “Tell me yes.”

But she couldn’t, not with his cock still in her mouth, so she only nodded. And then he was deep in her again, the short hair at his base tickling her nose. She held herself still until the sensation in her throat made her swallow. He groaned loud and rough, then swore under his breath.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck.”

He was already coming as he pulled out, his first load already down her throat, and just a faint salty flavor on her tongue. Then his body jerked and he spurted into her mouth, right to the back of her throat. She swallowed him down eagerly while he groaned above her.

He pulled away gingerly, careful not to hurt her. But she was beyond pain now. All she felt was the throbbing in her pussy.

“Shh,” he soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I need… I need…”

Her voice was too hoarse, and she didn’t know how to say it anyway. Didn’t know how to explain that she’d go insane if she didn’t come in two seconds flat.

Instead she grabbed his hand and pressed it between her legs—the move crude and telling. His expression softened with understanding.

His fingers dipped between her pussy lips, where she was impossibly slick for him. He gathered wetness and drew it up to her clit, sliding around the hard nub, making her clench her legs. It was too much, her flesh too sensitive. But at the same time she wanted him harder, faster.

He shifted to kiss her lips, the soft press a sharp contrast to the invasion of his cock. He said again, “Let me take care of you.”