Chapter 5: The Taste of Submission
The thick, salty taste of him still coated her tongue, the phantom stretch of her throat echoing as she pulled back, gasping. Marcus’s cock, slick and glistening, pulsed inches from her lips, his ragged breaths matching her own. Triumph warred with a dizzying vulnerability deep inside her. She’d conquered his length, and the raw power in his groan as she swallowed him whole still vibrated in her bones.
Then, his hands on her hips weren't guiding anymore; they were commanding. In one swift, fluid motion, he flipped her onto her back. The plush towel beneath her offered no real purchase; she slid, her bare back hitting the warmed vinyl. Before she could register the shift, he’d hooked his hands behind her knees, spreading her legs wide, forcing them apart with an undeniable strength that was thrilling in its suddenness. The cool air of the room hit her exposed pussy, already swollen and slick, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him as he settled between her thighs.
"Fuck, look at you," Marcus growled, his voice a low scrape of gravel. His gaze was locked on her glistening pussy, pupils blown wide in the dim candlelight. "Soaked. Still fucking dripping from taking my cock down your throat. Could smell it the second I flipped you." He didn't ask. He didn't hesitate. He buried his face between her legs with a hungry groan.
Jane cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound as his hot mouth covered her. Not tentative, not exploratory, but devastatingly direct. His tongue, broad and relentless, found her clit instantly. He flattened the swollen bud, applying firm, circling pressure that sent electric shocks ripping through her spine. Her hips bucked off the table, seeking more, but his hands tightened on her thighs, pinning her hips down, denying her the friction she craved while delivering exactly the devastating touch she needed.
"Oh god! Marcus!" Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, not pushing him away, but gripping, anchoring herself against the onslaught. He hummed against her flesh, the vibration reverberating deep into her core, a counterpoint to the slick, obscene sounds of his mouth working her. He lapped at her folds, tracing her entrance, tasting her deeply, possessively. Then, without warning, two fingers breached her, plunging deep inside her soaking channel in one smooth thrust.
"FUCK!" Jane arched, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. She was stretched, filled so suddenly. His fingers were thick, skilled, curling instantly upwards, finding that ridged spot inside her with unerring accuracy. He pressed hard, massaging that sweet, torturous spot while his tongue never relented on her clit, flicking it rapidly, then sucking it hard between his lips.
"Tight little pussy," he muttered against her, his voice muffled by her flesh. "Gripping my fingers like a fucking vice. You love this, don't you? Love getting your pussy used."
The filthy words, delivered so casually against her most sensitive skin, sent a fresh flood of wetness around his invading fingers. She could feel it, hear the slick squelch as he withdrew them almost completely, only to drive them back in hard and fast. His rhythm was relentless, his fingers pistoning inside her, stretching her walls, while his tongue danced and sucked her clit into a frenzy.
"Yesss... oh fuck, yes!" she babbled, her head thrashing on the towel. Her body was a taut wire, humming, every nerve ending screaming under his expert assault. The dual stimulation was unbearable, pushing her towards the edge with terrifying speed. She felt the coil winding tighter, impossibly tight, deep in her belly. Her breath came in frantic gasps, her thighs trembling violently against his hold.
"Gona make you scream," Marcus promised, his voice thick with her arousal. He added a third finger, stretching her even more, the slight burn making her gasp. He scissored them slightly, opening her wider, his knuckles grinding against her inner walls as he thrust. His tongue intensified, circling her clit with feverish speed, the suction relentless. Then he curled his fingers in one move pulling against her G spot. That did it.
The pressure exploded. It wasn't a wave; it was a detonation. Pleasure ripped through her, savage and blinding. Her body convulsed, back arching violently off the table despite his grip. A raw, guttural scream tore from her throat, echoing in the small, scented room. Her pussy clenched rhythmically, desperately around his thrusting fingers, milking them, gushing wetness over his hand and face, squirting uncontrollably. Stars burst behind her eyelids as the relentless pleasure battered her senses, wave after devastating wave.
Marcus didn’t stop. He rode out her climax, fingers still working that deep spot, tongue still torturing her oversensitive clit, prolonging the agony into ecstasy until her screams dissolved into choked sobs and frantic whimpers. Her body was limp, trembling, utterly spent against the table, the only movement the frantic pulse still echoing deep inside her pussy where his fingers remained buried.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he eased the pressure. His tongue gentled, licking languidly through her dripping folds, tasting her release. He withdrew his fingers with a slick, wet sound that made her flinch in oversensitivity. He lifted his head. His chin glistened. His eyes, dark and predatory, locked onto hers. He brought his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, groaning as he tasted her climax.
"Fucking delicious," he rasped. He shifted his weight, kneeling up between her splayed legs. His cock, rock-hard and ruddy, stood thick and heavy against his stomach, glistening with a fresh bead of pre-cum at the tip. He grasped the base, aligning the swollen head with her slick, swollen entrance. The blunt pressure against her sensitized flesh made her gasp.
"More?" he demanded, the single word a dark promise. His gaze held hers, unwavering. He didn't push in. Not yet. He waited, his cockhead nudging insistently against her soaked opening, demanding her answer, her surrender, before he claimed what his mouth had just conquered. Her body, still shuddering from the aftershocks, clenched in terrified, desperate anticipation.
Marcus’s cockhead, slick and insistent, pressed against her drenched, swollen entrance, a blunt demand for entry. His dark eyes pinned hers, the question hanging heavy and unspoken in the thick, scented air: More?
She couldn’t form words. Her throat felt raw from screaming. Her chest heaved, breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath his predatory gaze, the flush spreading down her neck. The sheer size of him, witnessed intimately just moments ago filling her mouth, terrified her. Taking him raw, unprotected, felt reckless, forbidden, a line she hadn't even considered crossing until this second. Yet the pulsing ache deep inside her womb, the slick evidence of her own desperate arousal coating her thighs, screamed yes. The conflict warred in her wide eyes – fear warring with a terrifying, submissive hunger to be whatever he wanted, his fuck toy laid bare.
Marcus watched the play of emotions across her face, reading her tension, that flicker of worry beside the raw need. A faint, knowing smirk touched his lips. "Thought so," he murmured, his voice low and rough. In one smooth, unexpected motion, his free hand dipped towards the small shelf beside the table, fingers closing on something Jane hadn’t noticed. He brought it up: a small, silvery square packet.
Her breath hitched, a wave of relief and strange disappointment washing over her. He ripped the corner open with startling efficiency, using his teeth. The sound – a sharp tear – cut through the humid silence. Spitting out the tiny shred of foil, he pinched the rolled latex between thumb and forefinger. His gaze never left hers as he rolled it down the thick, veined length of his cock with practiced ease. The sight was intensely erotic: the taut latex sheathing his rigid flesh, glistening in the candlelight. Ready. Waiting to change her world.
"Better?" he asked, the question loaded, almost taunting. He wasn't asking about safety; he was asking if she was ready to surrender completely. His cock nudged harder against her yielding flesh. The condom felt novel, a thin barrier over searing heat.
Jane swallowed, the taste of him still ghosting her tongue. The fear hadn't vanished, but it was drowned out by a tidal wave of pure, reckless desire. He’d seen her hesitation, solved it instantly, removing the last flimsy obstacle. Her legs, already spread wide by his earlier command, trembled. She managed a jerky nod, her voice a desperate whisper. "Yes. Please. Marcus... fuck me."
A low growl rumbled from his chest. "Good girl." He leaned forward, his powerful shoulders blocking the soft light. His hand gripped her hip, fingers digging into the flesh. No more hesitation. With one relentless, controlled thrust, he pushed the thick, latex-covered head past her slick folds very slowly. Jane cried out – a sharp gasp of shock and intense sensation as he breached her, stretching her wide. Jack was big and always satisfied her but Marcus was huge, impossibly thick, the stretch bordering on pain despite her wetness and the condom. Her inner muscles clamped down reflexively, trying to accommodate the massive intrusion.
"Fuuuck," Marcus groaned, the sound primal, vibrating through her. "Tight little pussy. Gripping me like a fucking fist." He didn't stop. He pushed deeper, inch by devastating inch, pistoning forward until his hips met the backs of her thighs, buried to the hilt. The feeling of being utterly impaled, filled beyond capacity, stole her breath. She felt stretched open, owned, the condom a thin, strange slickness against her sensitized walls.
He paused for a heartbeat, buried deep, letting her feel the full, throbbing length of him inside her. His gaze burned into hers. "All in," he stated, a dark promise. Settling there, holding deep inside until Jane was ready for more. Then he pulled back, almost withdrawing completely, the drag of the latex against her swollen inner walls making her whimper. He slammed back in, hard and deep.
"Oh GOD!" Jane arched, her hands scrabbling against the towel beneath her. His rhythm was immediately punishing, deep thrusts that drove the air from her lungs with each powerful drive into her core. The wet slap of flesh meeting flesh, the slick sounds of the condom moving within her heat, filled the room alongside her gasps and his guttural grunts. He gripped her hips, lifting her slightly to meet each downward plunge, controlling the angle, the depth, the pace. Each thrust hammered against her cervix, sending jolts of intense sensation – pain laced with overwhelming pleasure – radiating outwards.
"Take it," he commanded, his voice strained with effort and lust. "Take every fucking inch. Your pussy was made for big black cock." His fingers dug harder into her hips, bruising, possessive. He shifted, pulling her legs higher, spreading her wider, exposing her completely. The new angle was deeper, more invasive. He fucked her with relentless, driving force, his cock a thick, demanding piston stretching and filling her again and again. The condom created a distinct, slippery friction, different from skin, amplifying the feeling of being relentlessly filled and emptied.
Jane’s mind splintered. The guilt, Jack, the massage room – it all dissolved under the brutal, overwhelming physicality. There was only this: the deep, stretching penetration, the slap of skin, the scent of sex and lavender mingling, Marcus’s dominance pouring over her like heat. She was just a body being used, claimed, and her body screamed its approval. Her cries became wordless moans, rising in pitch with every deep stroke. Her inner walls began to flutter erratically around his invading thickness, the coil tightening again, impossibly fast, fuelled by the sheer force of his possession.
"Feel that?" he rasped, pounding into her harder, faster, sensing her impending climax. "Feel how deep I am inside your pussy? Gona make you come again. Squirt all over my cock, you filthy fuck toy." His words, filthy and demanding, ignited her. The coil snapped. Pleasure detonated, ripping through her without mercy, a brutal, convulsive wave that arched her spine off the table. She screamed, her pussy clenching and spasming violently around his thick, driving shaft, the contractions milking the latex-covered length as he hammered into her through her climax, relentless, driving her higher, shattering her completely.