Pregnant Mistress Can't Get Away

5. STELLA

I shuffle toward the edge of the bed on my knees and wrap my palm around his length.

His fingers come around the back of my head and he tugs on my hair until my lips are against the head of his c**k. “Open your mouth and lick the head first. You know what to do. Make sure you do it right this time because we’re not stopping until you take all of it in your mouth.”

I can’t fight him.

I can’t tell him that my body isn’t ready to take him like this yet. Telling him won’t change a thing. He won’t show mercy, not when it’s his pleasure on the line, his man ego in question.

I just do as I’m told. I part my lips and wrap them around the tip of him.

He groans and tilts his head back. His hand still in my hair. “Yes. Just like that. f**k!”

I lick his thick length all the way along the slit, tasting him, trying my best not to gag. He tightens his grip and shoves his c**k deep into my throat.

“Relax,” he sounds breathless. “It won’t take long. Just stay there with your lips wrapped around my c**k until you finish swallowing every bit of my cum.”

He pushes himself a little deeper and I feel the head touch the back of my throat.

My eyes begin to water a bit.

“Come on, Stella. Be a good little slut and take it all. You’re so good at this.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, he pulls me down until I feel him in my mouth completely.

My gag reflex kicks in and my stomach contracts at the intrusion.

I try to pull back and away from his but his hold tightens on my hair. The next thing I know, he’s pushing his hips forward and back into me until all I can feel is him, his entire length. My eyes burn, the tears building up as my throat stretches wide, opening up for him as his c**k drives in and out of it slowly.

It doesn’t take long before I find myself breathing hard through my nose, and trying my best not to choke and suffocate while he continues to thrust his c**k deep into my throat.

His breathing turns hard and loud in the otherwise quiet room. He continues to pump into my throat as fast as he could go, pushing my body forward every time.

The thrusts are so strong and deep and rough that my body feels weak. All I can do is close my eyes, lean against him for support and just let him have his way with me, just let him take what he wants.

He growls. “Yes!”

He holds my head in place until all I can feel is his length pulsing and throbbing in my mouth as he shoots his release inside it and all I can taste is him.

And it hurts so much.

His hold loosens on my hair and his c**k slips out of me. I swallow everything, tasting him and letting the tears fall down my cheeks unhindered. Why? Because I don’t know what else to do.

I drop to the floor and start sobbing uncontrollably, my throat raw from all the roughness he put me through. My breathing turns shallow as his hands come down on my arms and pull me up until I’m on my knees in front of him again.

“Look at me, Stella. Open your eyes.”

But I can’t. I just can’t look at him because I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want him to think he broke me. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how weak I truly am.

“Open your f*****g eyes,” he repeats in a firmer tone, his voice echoing around, filling every empty space, making it harder to breathe as I take a deep breath and lift my head to face him.

I open my eyes and stare right into his dark gaze.

But I’m not surprised to find that he’s still not done with me.

He reaches for me and his fingers trail over my jaw before stopping to cup my face. The next moment, he leans down and places his lips over mine, kissing me, tasting himself in my mouth.

His hands move lower until he catches my waist, lifts me off the floor and brings me back against his chest, his touch burning holes in my skin.

My legs wrap around him instinctively as his hands move even lower and tape around the curve of my ass. He sits back on the bed with me on his lap, his chest pressed against mine.

My body feels hot, as if on fire, my breathing hard, as if it’s not enough, as if there is no air to breathe.

I bind my arms around his shoulders and bury my face into the crook of his neck as he enters me once more. I let out a moan—before cursing myself for it. But I couldn’t have helped it either. This position feels different. It hits all the right spots at once.

His fingers tighten their grip on my hips and he shoves into me a couple of times. Then, he pulls me off his lap, away from his chest and pushes me down until I’m back on the bed, his weight pressing me against the sheets.

I close my eyes as I try to breathe, my lungs struggling for oxygen. He starts to thrust into me hard and deep, not showing even an ounce of mercy.

I’m so battered, so tired, so…done. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop.

He pulls out completely and then shoves back into me with a force that makes my body move up a little on the mattress, my breasts bouncing with each push of his hips against my skin.

It doesn’t take long until I’m coming apart and falling over the edge. My body clenching tightly around his. He pushes in again, one last time and it feels like a knife in my chest as my breath catches and my lungs freeze as my body contracts around him.

I’m barely conscious by the time he finishes f*****g me.

His grip on my thighs is so strong that it leaves marks behind on my skin. And even though I know there will be bruises left over, I still let him hold on.

Because that’s all I can do.

He finishes inside of me for a second time, but he doesn’t stop there.

He takes me again and again, and each time is harder and more painful than the last, leaving behind a different kind of pain inside of me that makes my stomach twist with a strange kind of pleasure, making me feel empty and broken, as if I’m not even here.

By the end, when I finally start to fade into the darkness, I realize that I’ve lost count of the times I’ve orgasmed and all I can feel is the hot warmth of his release spreading inside of me as he takes what he wants from my body, filling me until I can’t feel anything else except that.

My eyes begin to shut slowly, my mind fading to a state of semi-consciousness.

And the last thing I hear before the darkness claims me is his voice, rough and deep, whispering against the skin of my neck.

“Mine.”