When I'm on the table, legs shaking, still partially angled closed, he leans back in his chair, a menacing grin twitching the corners of his mouth upward.
The pure dominance he exudes is heat that sinks into my core, until I'm panting and confused as I rub my thighs together.
"Be a good girl, and spread my meal for me," he instructs. My anxiousness is momentarily paralyzing. The fact that his eyes are on me so closely, and there's no way to shield myself from his scrutinizing gaze causes my heart to pound in my chest so heavily, I'm sure he can hear it.
Come on, Sasha...
Don't let fear hold you back.
Stay.
Surprise him.
A deep breath sets my movements in motion. I spread my thighs, careful to angle them around the plate just as he's envisioned in his sleep. His eyes move down my face, along my body before they stop to linger on the black panties that are clinging to every fold of my pussy, leaving nothing to the imagination.
He leans forward a tad, licking his lips as I squirm slightly and the fabric covering my slit, moves a little, giving him a preview of what he's about to devour.
He must be pleased. My eyes move to his lap where his dick is straining beneath the confines of denim. With an animated thrust of his hips, I watch with fascination as it twitches in his pants.
"You're clenching those tight little walls, aren't you, Sasha?" He comments, before running a hand down his face as a deep groan leaves his lips. I hadn't even realized I was clenching my inner walls until he said, and as soon as he moaned, I did it again.
"Prepare yourself for me," he adds, nodding to my panties.
Prepare myself for him? I'm not exactly sure what that means. I lift my hand, hesitating confusedly, before he captures my wrist and brings my fingers toward his mouth.
"I'm ravenous.... so you better make sure it's fucking juicy," he snaps, before his tongue darts out along my two fingers, coating the tips with wetness before he releases my grasp. "Show me how you stroke yourself."
He wants me to play with myself. Directly in front of him. Lights on full blast. My cheeks warm but with my complexion, it's easy to mask. I blink rapidly for a moment, moving my fingers slightly in awe of their sheen of saliva now residing on them, before I begin to make my move with a mental pep talk.
I got this. He wants it. By the looks of it, very badly, I am at an advantage.
The thought makes my confidence surge, so I lower the hand that's not wet to my panties, and tug them over to the side to reveal my pussy.
He doesn't gasp. He's not one for dramatic responses such as that, but I can tell by his face it's as if all his prayers have been answered.
With the fingers he's prepped to stroke myself with, I lower them to my slit, gasping with surprise when I'm met with a flow of aroused juices that make my fingers glide smoothly upward to my throbbing clit.
As soon as my fingers make contact with that hardened bundle of nerves, my hips jerk forward and a breathy moan rolls off my tongue.
"Christ, Sasha," he groans, eyes trained on the way my fingers stroke my sensitive flesh before his eyes. His breathing begins to pick up, the excitement of the show I'm putting on for him is starting to affect him as it, surprisingly, is affecting me.
Stroke after stroke along my pussy, I begin to feel the budding of an orgasm in my stomach. It starts as a flutter that leaves a trail straight to my pussy where the ache begins to build, until I'm panting desperately atop the table, and I'm so wet, a squishing sound fills the room from my movements.
"Make it wet, so I don't taste the liquor on my tongue," Levi commands, a challenging smirk on his lips as he scoots forward in his chair and places his hands on my thighs.
"O-ohhhh Kay," I stammer, as the friction builds my orgasm higher and higher.
I know I'm close. I feel the release about to surge in my blood, my heart pounds sporadically as I gasp and moan, and buck my hips against myself. My clitoris is swollen and slick with my juices as I rub and rub, and just as I feel the crescendo of my orgasm, just as the peak is about to take me, he rips my hand away and replaces it with his mouth.
Wet, hot heat is all I feel, and the wonderful friction of his velvety tongue as he strokes my clit with it. He groans deeply, sucking my clit into his mouth to savor the pulsating little nub, as I cry out his name and dig my hands into his hair.
"Levi!"
"Oh! Levi!"
I'm gasping and aching and humping his face, desperately stalking the orgasm that's lurking so close by.
His tongue is skilled, leaving me whimpering with need. His hands are still on my thighs, but they slowly trail up toward my hips to grasp me tightly and solidify the rhythm he fucks me with his tongue, and I ride his face, so we're in sync.
Perfect.
With a few more generous strokes of his tongue, I shatter completely, and come in his mouth.
He doesn't stop there. He laps up my juices until I'm done shaking. Until there's nothing left, as if I'm the best meal he's ever received and he'll be damned if he misses even a drop of me.
When he pulls away, I don't know what to expect. Or what to do. My eyes move to his mouth which is practically dripping with my juices. Amusement gleams in his eyes, before he swipes his thumb along his lip and sucks my nectar off the tip.
"Even if that stubborn mind can't obey, it seems your body has no problem." He licks his lips. "Fucking delicious."
He inserts a finger inside of me, and I furrow my brows with surprise at the invasion, and how it stirs awake that desire inside of me again.
"Levi," I mutter, incredulously. "It's sensitive."
"Good."
He slowly pumps his finger, angling it slightly upward in a way I've never had done before.
"What are you doing?"
I thought he'd be done... I don't know why I expected that. A man like him? He's never done. Not until I've been used so many times, I'm delirious or passed out from sheer exhaustion.
I knew once I gave in, his appetite would release and I'd be doomed.
"Has this tight pussy ever squirted?"
"Squirted?" I repeat the word completely petrified. I've only ever heard of that on porn. I always assumed my vagina was one of the ones that didn't come with that kind of equipment. "No, I haven't."
I avoid his gaze, ashamed.
"I can't...."
He chuckles at that, and shakes his head.
"For the right man, you will."
He inserts another finger and curves it upward like the first.
"It's your lucky day. I'm the right man."
He begins fucking me with his fingers skillfully, as if he's pounding me with a cock, and I am mystified by the sensation. The pleasure spreads through my body, building swiftly, until I can't take it anymore, and in the matter of a minute, I come, squirting directly onto his face.
It's impossible.
Only an experienced man could do that? In one minute?
I shake my head, eyes firmly closed, as I feel my head falling backwards.
"I told you."
I peel my eyes open, mouth slackening when I notice his face is dripping with my come.
"I squirted?"
A slow smile spreads on his lips and he nods, slowly removing his fingers.
That's when someone clears their throat, and my attention snaps sideways to spot an older man standing in the hall that is just off the dining room.
“Levi.”
Levi tenses before he regards the man.
“Judas,” he responds. The older man looks more displeased than the men who’d been in his living room days ago. Not like he works for Levi, but maybe they have an equal partnership or something.
“We have business to attend to,” Judas replies as he arches a brow and moves his gaze over to me. His eyes narrow as he scrutinized my appearance.
Levi clenches his jaw and grabs my dress, lowering it to cover myself from unwanted attention; eyes that aren’t his.
He shoves his chair back and stands.
“Finish eating, Sasha,” he says, before he spins on his heel and begins stalking toward Judas.
“Let’s go,” he instructs Judas, but before Judas follows him, he looks at me with a sadistic grin on his lips and shakes his head.
“You look just like her....”
With that, he leaves me to my noisy, senseless thoughts.