Page 56 of Bang (Club Deep #3)

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His hand clenches in my hair again. “Relax,” he repeats.

I force myself to take a deep breath and release my jaw. He thrusts against me, rocking back and forth, each thrust bringing him deeper into my mouth. Eventually, the tip of his cock brushes the back of my throat, and for a moment I tense, tears stinging my eyes, my body clenching as it yearns to gag. I choke a little, and blink up at him, nervous.

He just laughs again, catching my eye. “Don’t be scared to make noise, little virgin. It’s hot, hearing you gag on my cock.”

I swallow, and he tenses in my mouth, his body stiffening at the sensation of my tongue against the underside.

“I didn’t realize this would be so easy.” His laugh reverberates through my body. “We’ll be done in no time at this rate. Admit it, Pamona, you want me.”


Part of me thrills at hearing him talk like that. Like he already possesses me. But more of me—the sensible half of my brain—rebels. No. Still, I cannot get enough of him, now that I’ve tasted him. I lick at the vein that runs along his cock, and we find our rhythm together, him thrusting into me, me licking and sucking as he does. His hands tighten in my hair, and I wrap mine around his waist, grabbing his muscular, firm ass to pull him farther into my mouth as I start to adjust to the sensation, to his size and flavor.

I want more.

“I’m going to come in your throat,” Farrow growls, thrusting against me faster. “You’re going to swallow my cum and love every drop.”

I moan around him—yes—and that only makes him growl deeper, fuck my face harder.

He finishes with a guttural sound, half moan and half roar, and buries his cock in my mouth, up to my throat. I choke against him for a second, adjusting, but I love the feeling, and the flavor of his cum coating my tongue, my throat, my mouth. When he pulls out, he holds his cock in front of me, hands still pinning my head in place.

“Lick me clean,” he orders, and I do. I run my tongue along his length, lapping up every drop of his cum.

When I finish, he grips my shoulders and pulls me up beside him, standing. I’m shaky, unbalanced, but when I go to lean on him, I notice he’s quivering a little too. The second he sees me spot that, however, he stops and holds himself stiff and steady as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

“That was your first blowjob, wasn’t it?” he asks again, and I flush.

“Of course,” I reply, frowning at him. “Hell, I’ve never even kissed anyone before.” I laugh a little. “Funny I wound up giving a blowjob before a kiss.”

In response, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. Before I realize what’s happening, his lips crash into mine. I kiss him back, hard, tasting myself on his lips, just as I’m sure he can taste himself on mine. Our mouths part, and his tongue invades, intertwining with mine, claiming it the way he’s claimed so much of me already.

I can feel his whole body against mine, his muscles tense, his chest hard. I wrap my arms around him, trace his back as he pulls me against him, lifts me off the ground with the strength of his embrace, our lips still pressed together, tongues exploring one another.

I can feel his cock between us, growing hard again already, and I arch my hips to grind against him. My clit, still sensitive from the orgasm he gave me, aches when I press into him and start to thrust slowly. He groans into my mouth, kissing me deeper, running his hands through my hair, almost gently…

Then he jerks back, breaking the kiss with a gasp of protest that could’ve come from either one of us, I’m not sure.

He sets me back on my feet and steps away, dusting himself off. We’re both breathing hard, our faces flushed, eyes glistening with lust. But when he catches my eye again, I watch him force the wall down between us, the cold, impervious façade back up.

“I will fuck you,” he whispers. “The moment you beg me, which will clearly be soon… I’m going to take you.”

I lift my chin. Remember where I am. Who I’m with. “Never,” I reply, my jaw clenched. All the pleasant sensations of our kiss flood away, replaced by defiant anger. He won’t have me, not if I have anything to say about it.

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