Chapter 5: Ripped By My Roommate’s Dad(5)

~Maya~

I kept my eyes on him like he was the last goddamn miracle on earth. His cock was still hard. Still thick. Still dripping with the taste of me, of him, of everything. I wrapped both hands around it—because yes, it took both—and I moaned. I actually moaned like some needy, desperate little girl who didn’t know the meaning of self-respect.

And maybe I didn’t.

Not with him.

Not now.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice sounding like a curse and a prayer at the same time. “You don’t even care anymore, do you, kitten?”

“I don’t,” I whispered, my tongue flicking over the head like I was starved for it. “I don’t care about anything but this. About you. I want it again. I want to feel it again. I want you to ruin me again.”

And then I opened my mouth.

Wide.

So wide my jaw cracked.

And I took him in like I was built for it.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t flinch.

I let his cock slide across my tongue, past my lips, down my throat, until I was gagging around it again, choking with tears pouring down my cheeks and spit running down my chin and God, it was the best fucking thing I’d ever felt.

My throat clenched.

My eyes rolled back.

My pussy clenched too—because yes, I was that f**king gone.

He groaned. Loud. Rough. Like he was holding himself back with every vein in his body bulging. His hand tangled in my hair. His hips moved. Just a little. Just enough.

And then—

He started to f**k my mouth again.

And I let him.

I wanted him to.

Because I didn’t just want to suck his cock. I wanted to be his cock sleeve. His toy. His kitten. I wanted him to forget how old I was. Forget who I was. I wanted him to look down and see nothing but a mouth for him to use until he came again.

And God, he used it.

Over and over.

My knees slid on the tile. My hands dug into his thighs. My nails left red trails. But I didn’t stop. Not even when my face was a soaked mess of spit and tears and mascara. Not even when he hit the back of my throat so hard I saw white.

“Good girl,” he grunted, holding my head in place as he buried himself all the way in. “Take it, baby. You take it so fucking well. I’m gonna fuck this throat until you forget how to speak.”

I whimpered.

Literally whimpered.

Because I could feel it. Feel his cock twitching. Feel the way his breath got ragged. Feel the way he slammed just a little harder, held a little longer.

And then—

He came.

In my mouth.

Again.

And I f**king swallowed.

Like a good girl.

Like a ruined girl.

Like his girl.

And when he finally pulled out, chest heaving, cock still twitching, and I looked up at him—spit all over my face, his cum dripping down my throat, my hands still shaking—I didn’t wait for permission.

I moaned, blinked up through my wet lashes, and whispered—

“Can I ride it now, Daddy?”

He didn’t even answer.

He grabbed me.

One hand on my throat, the other under my thigh, and before I could blink, he lifted me like I weighed nothing and slammed me against the bathroom mirror. My ass hit the counter. My legs spread without me thinking. My soaked, swollen pussy rubbed right against the base of his cock like it knew what was coming and couldn’t f**king wait.

“I said,” I whispered again, panting now, grabbing his jaw with both hands like I was spiraling, “can I ride it now, Daddy?”

And that’s when he smirked.

That evil, possessive, you-just-fucked-up kind of smirk.

The one that makes you wet and terrified at the same time.

“You want to ride it?” he asked, voice low, dangerous, teasing. “Then ride it, kitten. Show me how desperate you are to sit on the cock that just ruined your throat and filled your pussy.”

I nearly came from that alone.

I reached down with shaking fingers and wrapped my hand around the base of him—still thick, still hard, still dripping. I lifted myself up, knees wobbling, breath shuddering. And I stared at him the entire time. My eyes on his. My mouth open. My cheeks flushed.

Then I slid down.

Slowly.

So fucking slowly.

And baby, I felt everything.

Every thick inch of him stretching me again, dragging through my raw, aching walls that were already sore and soaked from the first time. I gasped. Cried out. My nails dug into his shoulders. My thighs quivered as I lowered myself until he was all the way in again.

Balls deep.

Buried.

Owned.

“Fffffuck,” I moaned, throwing my head back as my pussy clenched around him. “I feel every inch—Daddy, I feel it so deep—I feel it in my fucking throat—”

His hands locked on my hips.

Tight.

Controlling.

Commanding.

“You said you wanted to ride it,” he growled, slapping my ass once, then gripping it so hard I whimpered. “So fucking ride it. Show me what this tight little cunt was made to do.”

And I did.

I moved.

I bounced.

I f**king rode him like my life depended on it, tits bouncing, breath catching, jaw slack as I slid up and down that cock like I was possessed. My clit rubbed against his pelvis with every grind. My body burned. My pussy pulsed. And every time I dropped down and took him deep again, I moaned louder.

“Daddy—Daddy—I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my God—”

He grabbed my face.

Forced me to look at myself in the mirror.

“Watch yourself,” he snarled. “Watch yourself bounce on Daddy’s cock like a filthy little slut. Look how pretty you are with my cum leaking out of your cunt.”

And I did.

I looked.

I saw the tears in my lashes. The spit on my chin. The mascara running. The red handprint on my ass. The stretch. The shame. The need.

And I came.

Hard.

So f**king hard I screamed.