Chapter 25
Sofia Bliss
It was supposed to be just a tease.
Just something to push him over the edge.
To watch him squirm, beg, and lose control.
To bruise his ego a little.
But I was the one who lost control first.
Before I could even realize it…
The bastard was between my legs.
And his tongue was on my pussy.
I froze. Couldn’t even move.
It hit me like a heatwave — overwhelming, wild — dragging all reason down with it.
I tried to close my legs, instinctively.
But it was already too late.
The heat had swallowed me whole.
His mouth…
That warm breath, those hungry lips sliding across me like he was starving.
Like I was his feast.
And he…
He devoured me.
Like I was the best fucking thing he’d ever tasted.
And I… I could only feel.
No man had ever even tried to do this to me.
Not once.
But there he was, on his knees, face buried between my thighs like he’d found fucking heaven.
“So that’s why girls are always talking about this…”
My friends, always giggling, sharing stories like it was some casual thrill.
I never got it.
Never felt it.
Until now.
My hand flew to his hair — pure reflex.
But I didn’t push him away.
No.
I held him there.
I kept him close.
And I asked myself:
Why am I letting this happen?
Why do I feel like I never want it to stop?
I laid back, body weak, legs shaking, nerves frayed.
And he… got even more comfortable.
Like my body was already his.
Like my pussy was his fucking property.
His eyes locked onto mine — intense, burning — as his tongue kept working me.
His face was serious, almost cold, like a monster on the brink.
A predator holding himself back from devouring me whole.
He looked possessed.
Dangerous.
Ready to break every rule.
“Fuck…” I whispered through gritted teeth, covering my mouth with one hand, biting down on my fingers to keep the moans from slipping out.
But I couldn’t stop the gasps.
The trembling.
He knew.
He saw.
I was just as wrecked as he was.
His eyes said it.
His breath said it.
The way he grabbed my thighs, spread them wider, as if he needed to crawl inside me and never come out.
“Fuck…”
I took a deep breath, trying to reclaim whatever was left of my sanity.
Trying to remember what the hell I came here to do.
This was supposed to be a lesson.
I wanted to humiliate him.
To make him swallow his pride.
So, before my body betrayed me even more, I breathed in hard and said, my voice trembling but clear:
“That’s enough... You’ve had your taste.”
I saw his eyes flinch.
And then…
He slowly pulled his tongue away.
Like he was saying goodbye to his favorite addiction.
Like it was the last drop of water in a desert.
He braced his arms around me, his body hovering just above mine, face close enough I could feel 'my' scent on 'his' lips.
His desire was painted across his face.
Eyes burning.
Muscles tight.
And when I looked down…
Oh God…
His pants were straining — about to burst.
The bulge was throbbing, alive.
He looked like he was about to lose his damn mind.
But what shattered me…
It was the way he started to beg.
His voice was rough, broken.
That deep, low tone… cracked.
He looked like a starving animal, begging with his eyes.
His hair fell into his face, his forehead almost touching mine.
And he whispered, like the whole world depended on my answer:
“Please… let me have more. Let me taste more of you…”
He looked devoted.
His mouth brushed against my neck, breathing me in, and then…
He licked me.
Slowly.
Up my neck.
All the way to the corner of my lips.
“I’m begging you, my mistress…” he whispered, his breath trembling against mine, our eyes locked.
“I’ll be your toy. Your pet. I’ll do anything… just…”
“Please… let me feel more.”
My heart skipped a beat.
The way he looked at me… like I was 'everything'.
Like he’d crawl through fire just to get another taste.
And then — just to push him further, to see if I could break him — I laughed.
Mocking. Teasing.
And I asked:
“And what do 'I' get out of it?”
Adrian Valehart
She was right there — beneath me.
Eyes unfocused, pupils blown wide, drowning in pleasure.
Cheeks flushed, lips parted, breath ragged.
She looked like something straight out of my filthiest, most depraved fantasy.
Only she was real.
So fucking real.
I’d already lost the battle against this craving. I had surrendered.
And the worst part?
I didn’t want to win anymore.
I didn’t want to fight it.
I just wanted her.
All of her.
Every glance. Every gasp. Every inch of her skin against mine.
I wanted her to fucking own me.
I wanted her to never look at another man again.
Then she looked up at me.
And that look…
God.
That look was fire and sin and a dare all wrapped in one.
"And what do I get out of it?"
Her voice was poison — the kind you drink knowing it’ll kill you… But still beg for more.
My heart skipped.
My fists clenched.
And then… I dropped to my knees, breath stalling, body on edge.
My fingers went straight to my zipper, and the metallic sound sliced through the heavy silence like thunder.
I pulled my cock out without hesitation.
It was burning. Slick. Desperate.
Hungry for her.
“You’ll get everything…”I rasped.
“Every drop of me. Every fucking inch buried deep inside you.”
I leaned over her again, catching that flash of surprise in her eyes — like she hadn’t believed I’d actually do it.
“So please... my mistress... just give me your pussy.”
I whispered the filth right against her lips, our noses brushing. And then I kissed her.
Hard. Deep. Like the world was ending, and she was the only thing I wanted to taste.
God, I’d wanted this since last night.
The taste of her was still on my tongue — that slick sweetness from between her thighs.
And yet… her kiss?
It was another addiction entirely.
Her hands moved up my chest, unbuttoning my shirt.
Her fingers glided down my torso, until they reached my cock — hard as steel, resting against her, aching to be inside something tight and wet and fucking perfect.
I thought I’d go insane.
I was this close to tearing her clothes off, to ramming my cock deep into her without mercy…
And then she moaned between kisses:
“Just put it in.”
And I did.
Oh…
I fucking did.