The Widower (18+) | [Complete]

Twelve

A/N: The following chapter contains content intended for mature audiences. Please keep in mind that while something may not be to your liking, that does not mean it isn't someone else's. Please refrain from yucking someone's yum. Kink-shaming helps no one. Thank you. 

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Augustine had me shower to ready myself for the scene, and it was nothing but a hot tease. As my mind ran wild with the seductive possibilities, the hot water that ran over every place I wanted to feel him.

Once I had finished, I left the glass enclosure to find my clothes missing. I dried off with one of the towels and gave my hair an unhelpful fluff in the mirror. When the warm ache in my core nagged at the last shred of my patience, I opened the door to leave.

I found him sitting in the chair catty-corner from the bathroom, staring at his phone. I pulled the towel from me slowly and let it drop to the floor. He looked up at me. An evil smirk twisted his lips while he sat his phone down. When I started to walk toward him, he stopped me with a hand. "No, no," he admonished me like a child. "I want you to crawl." 

I glared at him knowing it would only make him madder. 

With a hand deliciously gripping the gift between his legs, he lounged back in his chair and wet his lips. "Hands and knees, Ms. Nielson."

Maintaining my look of contempt, I slowly lowered myself to my knees. The lush carpet teased against my knees, and then my palms. 

With every demeaning step I took toward him, the cool air sent a chill over my skin and warmed my core. As I crawled closer, Augustine watched with careful eyes and slowly, so slowly, unfastened his belt. "Look like you hate me all you want," he growled. "It will only make it better."

When I made it to him, I dragged my nails against his thighs hungrily while he unzipped his fly. He reached behind my neck and pulled me closer, while his other hand pulled out his cock and rubbed it against my lips. Like a good girl, I took him into my mouth, keeping my hands on his legs. 

I slid him deep to wrap my lips around the base, then sucked as I slowly made my way back up to the tip. He tasted better than I had imagined. As fresh and clean as the scent of his cologne, yet a bit salty with his excitement for the pleasure I could give him. My hands fisted against the cinched material at his hips. I repeated my adagio movements over and over, feeling him fill the space between my teeth. The audible sigh I gained from him made me suck even harder. 

My pace quickened as I continued on. When my jaw started to ache, I looked up at him with a pitiful expression. He brushed my hair back and gripped it all in one hand. As I continued sliding him to the back of my throat and sucking him to the tip, I felt him watching me intently. When I sank down again, he pulled me down and shoved himself against the back of my throat. 

I nearly gagged as his girth restricted my air just the way I liked. His grip tightened in my hair and on the nape of my neck as he began to thrust. Over and over, he pushed himself deep and kept me from breathing. Then finally, he pulled himself from me, a trail of spittle the only thing connecting us.

My breath returned in a gasp. He leaned forward and pulled me into a luscious kiss. While his tongue teased mine, I couldn't fight the grin that pulled at my cheeks. 

With a growl, his lips left mine. He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, pulling me with him. He took me by the wrist and led me back into the closet. 

His hand dropped from me when he turned to focus his attention on the drawers. He opened one and then another, his eyes dancing over each item as if they were passages in a book he was referencing. Meanwhile, I squirmed as I stood naked in a room full of clothes.