Chapter 52 52
Freya pov
“What… what kind of punishment?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Steve didn’t answer.
The corner of his mouth twitched once — slow, deliberate, the same dangerous flicker he always got right before he decided I’d earned whatever came next. His eyes locked on mine..
Then his hand slid around the back of my neck, palm still warm and damp from the shower. He tightened his grip just enough to make my pulse jump under his thumb and pulled me in, forcing my head back until the ceiling lights blurred above me. A second later his face filled my vision, close enough that I felt the heat of his breath against my lips.
He still hadn’t said a word.
But that look — the one that promised I was about to be ruined so sweetly
"The kind that makes you listen to instruction," he finally said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"And you learn that, When I say hold on and watch, you will watch. When I say stay, you will stay. And you will think before lying next time."
"Steve," I breathed out, my voice trembling.
“Shushhhhhh,” he growled.
The low, rough sound rolled out of his chest and stopped every word in my throat.
His fingers squeezed my neck just a little tighter.
It told me loud and clear: no more talking.
He moved closer to me, his chest pressing against my back as he circled. His mouth was in my ear, his breath hot. “You will take your punishment,” he said, “until I cum. And you will do it on your knees.”
“My knees”
“On your knees, Now” he commanded.
I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. "What?"
“Down. Freya.”
I swallowed hard, my legs feeling heavy, but I did as I was told. I sank to the floor, I looked up at him, my breath coming in short gasps. Steve reached for the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down, kicking them aside. He was already fully aroused, thick and pulsing, just inches from my face.
"Open," he said.
I hesitated for only a second before I reached out, my hands trembling as I gripped him. He was hot. I opened my mouth, and he guided the head of his cock past my lips. Slowly. He tasted salty. Musky..
I closed my lips around him and sucked gently at the tip. My tongue swirled in slow circles. He let out a low groan, and the sound went straight between my legs. I began to slide my mouth down his length, using my hand to guide the rest.
“Good,” he murmured. “Take more.”
I slid down further, inch by inch. My tongue pressed flat along the underside. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder. He groaned again, deeper this time, his fingers tightening in my hair. I started to move, slowly at first. Up and down. Lips tight. My tongue worked the sensitive spot just under the head every time I pulled back. I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was tipped back a little.
He slapped my cheek lightly. Enough to make me moan around him.
“Eyes on me,” he said.
I kept looking up. Keep sucking. I kept moving my head, drawing it out. I let my tongue trace every vein, letting my lips drag. He was breathing harder now, sweat rolling down the side of his face. He slapped my other cheek, firmer this time. The sound cracked through the room. I whimpered around his cock, and the vibration made him curse under his breath.
“Fuck,” he growled.
His hand tightened in my hair. He started to move, guiding my head, fucking my mouth slowly at first. He went deep enough to hit the back of my throat. I gagged a little, tears coming to my eyes, but I did not pull away. He pulled back to let me breathe, then pushed in again. Harder. Faster. He was fucking my mouth in steady strokes. My jaw ached, and my lips felt swollen. Drool ran down my chin while sweat dripped from his stomach onto my chest.
The AC was blasting cold air, but we were both sweating. My skin stuck to his thighs. His hand in my hair was damp. The room smelled like sex and sweat. He groaned louder, his hips snapping forward. Once. Twice. Deep. He held it there while I swallowed it. My throat worked as he cursed again.
“Take it,” he rasped. “All of it.”
I did. I sucked harder, tongue pressed flat and cheeks hollow. My eyes remained locked on his. His body tensed, and his grip on my hair turned almost painful. He thrust once more, deep, and held it. Then he came hard down my throat with a low, broken moan.
I swallowed everything. I kept sucking gently until he stopped twitching, until his breathing finally slowed. He pulled out slowly, his thumb wiping the corner of my mouth and smearing what was left across my swollen lips.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice rough and satisfied.
He helped me up. My knees were weak, my jaw hurt, and my body was shaking with need. But he did not touch me between my legs. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my forehead.
“That was your punishment,” he murmured against my hair. “Next time you sneak around or disobey… it will be longer.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. Stupid me. I was falling for this monster more, and even worse, I was becoming a monster myself. Shamelessly, a dark thought flickered through my mind: I thought the punishment would be worse than this… Something that would break me and make me cry real tears and beg for it to stop. But this—this slow, controlled use of my mouth, the way he made me take every inch until he finished down my throat—it felt almost gentle in comparison. And the worst part? The shameful part? I wanted it worse.
I wanted him to push me harder. To make me cry harder. To make the ache between my legs so bad, I would do anything for release. I could not believe the thought was in my head. I was shameless. Completely shameless.
Steve’s arms stayed wrapped around me. One hand stroked slow circles on my bare back. The other rested on my hip. His breathing was steady now.
"The party will be held in two days' time," he said, his voice returning to that cool, authoritative tone.
I lifted my head just enough to look at him. My hair stuck to my damp cheek.
“Is there really going to be a party?” I asked.
He nodded once. “Yes.”
My mind spun; I wanted to ask him more questions, but my body had other ideas.
Without thinking, my right hand slipped between us. Down my stomach. Between my thighs. My fingers found my clit—swollen, slick. I touched myself lightly at first. Just a soft circle. Then a little firmer. My breath hitched. I tried to keep my face neutral and tried to keep talking like nothing was happening.
“But… who is coming?” I asked. My voice came out breathy. Higher than normal.
Steve’s hand on my hip tightened slightly. He did not answer right away.
I kept touching. Slow circles. My hips gave a tiny, involuntary rock against my own fingers. Heat climbed up my neck. I bit my lip to stay quiet.
“People you will love to meet,” he said finally. “Maybe one of them.”
I nodded like I understood. But I did not. My fingers moved faster. Slipping through my wetness. Pressing harder against my clit. My thighs shook.
Steve’s gaze dropped.
He noticed.
His eyes locked on my hand between my legs. On the way my fingers moved. The room went still.
I froze.
My hand jerked away. Heat flooded my face—shame, embarrassment, and panic all at once.
I rushed to stand up. My legs wobbled. I almost fell. I took two quick steps back.
“I should go now."