Page 68 of The Protege

I nod, still sucking his fingers, letting my need for him fill my eyes.

“How can I say no when you ask so very, very nicely.” The belt tightens slightly and I feel the pressure around my throat, constricting, but I go on sucking his fingers. I like the sensation of his fingers in my mouth so I reach up and unzip his trousers, taking out his cock. I look up at him as I take a first, slow lick. I grow bolder, taking him into my mouth and closing my eyes. He fills my mouth, hot and smooth and delicious.

“Let me see you play with your pussy, baby.”

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, holding it steady for me while I use my hands to lift my skirt. Opening my knees wider, I let my fingers play over myself, feeling the wetness there, rubbing over the swollen folds, my clit. I rub the tight bead of nerves with my middle finger, going on sucking him, long languorous strokes of my mouth and tongue, moaning as the sensations beneath my fingers grows. Laszlo pushes his length deeper into my throat and hisses with arousal, squeezing the belt even tighter.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, his breathing as hard as mine is labored.

He releases his grip and pulls away from me, leaving me gasping at his feet while he undresses. My eyes rove across his body hungrily. I love his body, the rough hair, his heavy limbs, his broad chest, the muscles across his shoulders and his strong throat. He takes a firm fistful of my hair and compels me up and over the arm of the sofa so I’m bent double, my ass in the air.

“I’m in a leather mood today, babygirl.” He’s still got his belt wrapped around one hand, the straps hanging loose. His grip is menacing.

“But I’ve been so good,” I say, realizing what he means to do, my toes curled tight into the carpet in anticipation.

There’s an indulgent smile in his voice. “I know, baby.”

Laszlo draws back his arm and the leather cracks over my flesh. I cry out, seizing the cushion, and he traces the red marks lovingly with his fingers. When I’m bad he makes me come. When I’m good he hurts me, because he likes it. I plant my feet more securely and let my body go limp, waiting for his next lash. Craving that feeling he gives me.

It comes a moment later white hot and fast as lightning. I squeal and tears leak from my eyes. I sniffle loud enough for him to hear. Wanting him to hear. Suspecting he’ll like it.

He strokes my hair back from my face, making a sympathetic noise deep in the back of his throat, and I know I’m right. “Babygirl. You’re so pretty when you cry. Can you cry a little more for me? Let me help you.”

He’s more than helpful, he’s thoroughly vicious about raising welts on my backside and every time he touches them his breath is harder and more roughened. His fingers find my pussy and bury themselves in my slickness.

“So tearful, and so wet. That’s just beautiful, sweet girl.” He rolls a condom down over his cock while I’m still gasping softy against the sofa cushion, and then his length is thrusting into my heat. He pinches the stinging flesh of my ass, the pain heightening the pleasure of his thrusts.

“Are you my good girl?”

“Yes—” I start to reply but he wraps the belt around my neck again, choking off my words. I hear his satisfied groan and a moment later he loosens his hold on the leather.

“What was that, baby?” he asks, that dark chocolate indulgence in his voice.

I take a deep breath. “Yes, da—” But he tightens his grip, and when my words are cut off he makes that satisfied noise again. He holds on longer this time and pounds me hard. Not long enough to make my lungs burn but long enough to make it clear he’s doing this deliberately.

“Breathing is a privilege, baby. Do you understand?”

I nod, and he laughs softly and then loosens the belt so I can take a gulping breath. As I do my orgasm rushes up, sudden and strong. He clenches his hand around the belt, tightening it on my throat. I barely seem to need air as my orgasm goes on and on. I feel his finger slide through my wetness and then push into my ass, and I welcome the sensation.

Next thing I know he’s pulled out and I feel the blunt tip of his cock where his finger was. He pauses, just rubbing himself against me. I understand the question, and I want it. I push back against him, feeling myself give around the first inch of him.

Laszlo grips the belt to hold me still. He leans his weight into me, slowly, slowly, his other hand making my back arch for him.

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