21

HAZEL

I have the lord of the estate groveling for mercy. If my mouth wasn't full of cock, I would be smiling right now.

Power and lust combine, binding tightly around me and squeezing me. Leaving me with a hunger that I try to satisfy with Ronan's cum. In the novel I read, the taste of a man's seed was vaguely described. I want it on my tongue. To experience its taste.

I suck his cock sloppily. Although I have no gag reflex, Ronan's dick is a force to be reckoned with. Girthy and long, twitching down my throat, veiny and textured. He wears a hood on his head, but his circumcised, proud cock hides nothing. The hood is pulled back, revealing every feature on his perfect cock. His head is buried somewhere down my throat, but it's my favorite part because it's smooth and soft like his lips.

I let my body take over as I suck and bob my head, forgetting the lectures from the novel. I don't need them. Ronan's moans and grunts are enough to guide me. When I have his cock down my throat, he becomes easy to read. He's not a powerful lord of the estate anymore, just a man with taunt thighs, rasping lips, and twitching cock. And I love it. He's showing me a vulnerability that rarely comes to light.

I bob my head faster, my breasts gently swaying to the beat. I slide my thumb across his balls out of curiosity, and Ronan grabs my hair and yanks me away to dislodge his cock from my mouth. I inhale deeply, taking in the breath I neglected.

Ronan shouts and puts his cock in a death-grip. I watch in amazement, licking my lips as he fights his orgasm. After a few seconds, it's clear that he's winning the fight and avoiding release. Displeased, I lean in and seal my lips around his head, ignoring the pain in my scalp.

Not even his death grip can stop the cum that shoots out and fills my mouth. He shouts again, giving up the fight as my mouth is filled with his thick, creamy, tangy seed. But he has the last laugh, because the sheer volume of cum has me coughing and spilling a mess over my breasts.

Is this... is this how much is supposed to come out?

Ronan isn't happy. Now that he's not clouded by lust, his groans have quieted. Now there's an eerie silence. I peek up at him shyly, swallowing the seed in my mouth. His eyes fall to my bobbing throat.

I'm surprised by the taste. It's so thick that it leaves a thirst effect, beckoning me to drink more.

"Shouldn't have done that," he grits, voice thick and rich like his seed.

His cock is still erect, dripping a few beads of cum. As it casts a shadow over my face, it looks all the more domineering. How I fit that cock down my throat is a mystery that's beyond me.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "I might be on my knees, but I'm the one in control here."

I speak too quickly.

Ronan reaches for me with two greedy hands, his cock swaying. He grabs me by my arms and makes me stand, ripping my clothes off with menacing strength. It all happens so fast that I don't realize I'm naked until he hauls me onto the bed, making me land on my hands and knees. My ass is perched in the air, giving him unlimited access to my shame.

The man has barely touched me, and yet I feel my wetness dripping down the back of my thigh. I'm humiliated. The power-trip I was on as I sucked his cock—stealing his breath, cum, and sanity—has ended.

I squeeze my thighs shut, trying to hide my bare sex, but I know it's futile. Ronan has me where he wants me.

"Are you in control now?" He demands, gripping the back of my calves and pulling them apart.

I squeal, helpless against his strength or appeal. God help me, but I want him. I want that face that he thinks is grotesque to be flush against my sex until it can't be seen. I want to ride his face until I wildly scream and grind my hips, making it clear that I'm the hungry monster in this room.

"Ronan," I whispers, burning so hot for him that my pussy is boiling.

I lick my lips in search of another drop of cum.

He exhales, and there's a brief moment of relief when I feel his warm breath against my sex. But then his mouth descends on the wrong hole.

"What are you doing?" I exhale, breathless and squirming.

"It's my turn to play games." He barely finishes his sentence before he's back on the offense, licking my clenched, forbidden hole.

Why is my pussy throbbing? This is filthy, wrong! This shouldn't feel good.

I stay right where I am, trusting and fearing Ronan all at once. Not daring to take his plate away. I let him peel back my layers one lick at a time. Massaging me, soothing me, until I find pleasure where I thought it wasn't possible.

I relax my body and close my eyes, enjoying his thick, eager tongue. Ronan rewards me by heading south, mixing his wet tongue with my wetter pussy. He spreads me open with his thumbs and buries his face against me, licking without grace or rhythm. Just madness. He presses, flicks, and licks to map my sex and learn what makes me squirm.

I set my head on the mattress and send a quick prayer between my moans. Ronan doesn't come up for breath, flattening his tongue on me and lapping until I'm moaning loud enough to alert the entire estate. Until I'm the only freak in the estate.

He drags the pad of his thumb up the trail of wetness that dripped down my thigh and returns it to his mouth, sucking the thumb dry before returning to my pussy.

I'm sweating and trembling. Possessed and confused. No chapter in the novel warned or prepared me for what I'm feeling. The pleasure in my nerves pulses like a heartbeat, amounting to something I've never faced before. Growing, spreading, conquering while I fight its allure.

Ronan isn't pleased by my resistance. He locks his lips on me and begins a sucking motion that drains me of what little restraint I have left. I give him everything—the loudest moan of the night, contractions in my pussy, and the collapse of my body as my legs give out and send me to the mattress.

"Where are you going? We just started," he chuckles.

I gather my strength and turn myself, baring my body to him. His smirk is wiped from his face as he stares at the pussy he just devoured, leaning in as if he wants to eat me again from this new angle.

He groans and kisses my inner thigh. "You're quite messy for a maid, Hazel," he says as he slides a finger over my sensitive, wet sex.

I stare at his chiseled chest, as guilty as he is of obsession. He's perfect. His muscles could power him all right, letting him do delectable, sinful things to me. But then my eyes fall to his cock, and my excitement dwindles. Because that thing has more power than I bargained for.

Ronan notices my stare. He leans in, setting his hands beside my head to kiss me. Pecking my face as he sneakily presses his tip against me.

"I'll be gentle at first," he whispers. "But come dawn, all the furniture in this room will be broken."

"No," I blurt.

He pulls back a few inches until I can't feel him at my entrance anymore.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks.

"I meant that I don't want to do it in this room. I...I had this fantasy..."

My face reddens. What am I doing? He's going to think I'm crazy! He thrives in the darkness, in being unseen. He can't risk being spotted.

He nods, encouraging me.

"I want to do it outside, against the wall," I whisper.

He's frozen, offering no reaction. I can't tell if he's judging or regretting getting in bed with me.

I get my answer when he lowers his face between my legs and goes to town on my pussy all over again.

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