Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

Despite Sloane’s accusation that I don’t have a gag reflex,
I’m not superhuman. My eyes are already watering.
Keeping one hand around my throat, Kage fists the other in
my hair and stares down at me as I suck and stroke him. He
whispers something brokenly in Russian as he watches my
mouth with avid eyes.
He likes it. He loves it.
And so do I.
I close my eyes and suck harder, stroke faster, swirl my
tongue around the engorged crown. He grunts in pleasure,
fucking my mouth and holding my head steady.
Then he shudders and groans, long and low. His hand
tightens in my hair.
He whispers harshly, “I’m close. I want you to swallow
every drop, then lick me clean.”
I can’t speak, so I open my eyes and say yes silently as I
stare up at him.
He drops his head back, moans my name, and shudders
again. His hand around my throat is hot and shaking.
When he erupts, it’s with an abrupt hip thrust and a shout
toward the ceiling.
His cock throbs against my tongue. Tears stream down my
cheeks. I have to take shallow breaths though my nose as I
swallow. He takes his hand away from my throat and cradles
my head as he continues to come, pumping his hips and
moaning lustily. “Ahh—ahh—ahh—”
He collapses against the mattress with a final shudder, then
heaves a sigh.
As for me, I sit up a little on my knees so I can start
cleaning.
I lick him lovingly from base to tip, thinking I’d probably
be doing this even if he hadn’t ordered me to. His thick cock is
worthy of countless hours of worship. It’s a thing of beauty.
Maybe instead of abstracts, I’ll move on to nudes.