I'M GOING TO FUCK YOUR MOUTH 👄🍆

Hursts’s POV

“Let go of me. Now.”

The cheeky spark in her gaze had guttered out, replaced by something sharper: fear, maybe, or the sudden realization that she wasn't in control anymore.

“I said, back off!” She twisted, trying to break free. One hand broke loose for a split second, swinging toward my face in a sloppy arc.

I caught it mid-air, slammed both wrists back against the cold metal, and a short gasp leaped down her lips.

The sound went straight to my cock. I slipped out of the soiled briefs, still throbbing as it brushed her cheek.

“You don’t get to give orders anymore,” I said quietly. “Not after grinding on me like a bitch in heat.”

My fists tightened over her wrists, making sure the strongest wriggle would be nothing but a futile attempt at resistance.

“Here’s what's gonna happen. You're gonna answer all of my questions. And if I don't like your responses, I'm going to fuck your mouth.”

Her lips parted. Shock, maybe outrage. She tried to turn her head away, but I caught her jaw with my free hand, forcing her eyes back to mine.

“If you lie, or stall, or say something I don't like…” I didn't need to finish my sentence. Her ragged breaths meant she understood.

“What the hell do you think you're doing Hurst?”

“Question one. What was your so-called plan behind this? The cluelessness, the body language, the acting like a slut then turning it off.”

She swallowed. “If… if you bring that anywhere near my mouth, I’ll bite it off.”

I smiled, slowly, then rolled my hips forward so the slick head dragged across her lower lip… just enough to smear precum there.

“Try it.”

She bared her teeth, actually snapping towards me, and I thrust in before she could close.

I shoved past her lips and over her tongue, deep enough that her gag reflex kicked immediately. Her eyes watered instantly, nose flared against my pelvis.

I held her there, counting silently. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen.

Then I pulled out slow, and a thick rope of spit connected us. She coughed, sucking in air like she’d been drowning.

“I’ll ask again,” I said. “What was your intention?”

“Fuck you, you perv” she rasped, voice wrecked. “If Damian finds out—”

I rammed back in. Harder. Fucking her mouth in short, punishing strokes while she gagged and choked. Her hands flexed uselessly against the fridge. Still pinned, still fighting.

When I pulled out the second time, tears streaked her cheeks. Spit ran down her chin, mixed with the drying yoghurt on her jersey.

“Last chance,” I growled. “Tell me the truth, or I find other ways to make you talk.”

Her gaze darted down to my cock, glistening with her saliva. Then lower, to where her thighs were pressed tight together.

I could smell her now. That sharp, unmistakable arousal cutting through everything else.

I nudged my foot between her legs, pressed the top of it against her soaked panties, and slowly dragged up and down.

She hissed, trying to clamp her thighs shut, but I wedged my knee in and forced them apart.

“Soaked,” I said. “After all that fighting. You’re dripping for the guy you claim to hate.”

“I’m not—” She started, then bit it off as I rubbed harder and a small whimper slipped out.

I let go of one wrist. She didn’t swing again. Just let her arm drop. Resistance was futile.

“Confess,” I said. “Say it. You set this up because you wanted my dick, and I'll consider being a little more gentle.”

Her lips quivered. Her eyes glassy.

For a long second I thought she’d break completely.

Then she lifted her chin, defiant even now.

“Everything you’re doing… is being recorded.”

I paused. Just long enough for the words to hang.

“I told you I planned this,” she whispered, voice shaking but steadying. “One more move. One more thrust. And Damian gets the video.”

That look was starting to return to her eyes. That look that meant she still futily thought she had control.

Pathetic. The growl crawled out of my throat.

“I told you… not to say anything I wouldn't like.”

Grabbing her jaw once more, “Open your mouth, Valia.”

She froze, breath ragged. Eyes locked on mine, searching for something. Mercy?

Useless, and she knew it.

Then, slowly, reluctantly, her lips parted. Just enough to confirm that realisation.

I didn’t shove. I fed it to her inch by inch and let her adjust. Let her tongue flatten against the underside.

Her free hand came up, hesitated, then wrapped loosely around the base.

Not stroking yet. Just holding.

I rocked once, and she gagged softly but didn't pull away.

Another rock. This time deeper.

Her throat fluttered to gift a muffled sound. Half moan, half protest.

I could feel the shift in her breathing. The way her hips twitched forward when I held still too long.

She was warming to it. Hating that she was, but warming all the same.

Pressure built along my length, gathering a surge before exploding out.

I was close.

Then…

…the front door clicked open and the scent of alcohol followed his slurred speech.

“Yo, bad news. Cavs lost. Should’ve seen that shit coming.”

Damian.

Valia jerked at the voice, attempting to pull back, but my fist tightened in her ponytail just as quickly and held her impaled as I buried deep.

“As expected,” I replied, voice calm as ever. “You owe me two hundred.”

“Yeah, yeah” he laughed. “Has Valia gone back yet? I got a cutie coming over later and the last thing I need is some nagging to ruin it.”

Huh. Embarrassingly stupid.

I could feel Valia's body tense, a flash of jealousy resting in her eyes when I spared a glance.

“Nah,” I answered smoothly. “She bounced a while ago.”

“Perfect” he sighed, drifting towards the bedroom. “Apologies in advance for the noise” he joked, and I couldn't help but spare a smile.

When the door to his bedroom clicked shut, I pulled out slow, and Valia collapsed forward onto her hands and knees… gasping and coughing as her thighs trembled underneath her.

Lips swollen and red, her panties were all but hidden underneath the jersey anymore. She was drenched in juices that got me even harder.

I crouched beside her, tipping her chin up with one finger.

She looked destroyed, and still, her eyes burned with that same conflicted heat.

“Well,” I said, voice low. “Looks like you’re sleeping in my room tonight.”