Dead Daze – Pitch-Black Second Chance – Story Fodder Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Tags Authors: J.A. Huss Advertisement

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"You think Ryan can fuck you like this?" I grab her throat—not squeezing, just holding. Claiming. "Think he knows how to make you come so hard you black out? Think he understands what you need?"

"No—no⁠—"

"Fucking right he doesn't." I slam into her harder, feeling my orgasm building. "Only me. Only I know how to wreck this perfect little pussy. Only I know how filthy you really are."

Her pussy flutters around me. She's close.

"You're going to come on my cock," I command. "Right now. While I fill you up. And every time you see Ryan at that gym, you'll remember who you really belong to."

"Caleb—"

"Come, Scarletta. Now."

She detonates. Her entire body goes rigid, pussy clamping down on my shaft like a vice as she screams my name. The orgasm tears through her, violent and absolute.

I fuck her through it, chasing my own release. But this isn't how it ends. if this really is the last time—it isn't, but I could be wrong, stranger things have happened—if it's the last time, then she's going to finger herself relentlessly for the rest of her life to the memory of it.

As soon as her clenching stops—as soon as that vicious grip on my shaft relaxes—I pull out completely. She makes a wounded little sound, confused, still shaking from the aftershocks.

I don't give her time to recover.

I grab her by the hair and force her down. She goes down hard, knees hitting with a dull thud that makes her wince. But she doesn't protest. Just looks up at me with those wide, wrecked hazel eyes.

Fuck, she's beautiful like this. Destroyed. Mine.

"Open up, my little slut," I say, my voice rough, still breathless from fucking her so hard. I stroke my cock once, twice—still slick with her arousal, still rock-hard. "Time to have your cake and eat it too."

Her jaw drops instantly. No hesitation. No shame.

I shove my cock into her mouth before she can even take a breath. She gags immediately—throat convulsing around me as I push deeper, forcing her to take more than she's ready for. Her hands fly up to my thighs, nails digging into my flesh as she tries to steady herself, tries to breathe around the intrusion.

I keep going. Deeper. Until her nose is nearly pressed against my pelvis, until tears are streaming down her face and she's making these desperate, choking sounds that go straight to my balls.

Then—just when I feel her starting to panic, starting to push harder against my thighs—I pull out.

She gasps, coughing, sucking in air like she's been drowning. Her lips are swollen and wet and red. She looks utterly debauched.

I bend down and cup her face in both hands, tilting her head back, and I kiss her hard. Deep. Claiming her mouth the same way I just claimed her pussy.

I pour everything into that kiss—possession, obsession, the promise that this isn't over, that it will never be over.

She kisses me back—desperately, hungrily, like she needs my mouth more than air—and then her hand moves between us, finding my cock and wrapping around it with a grip so tight it borders on pain.

I pull back from the kiss with a sharp inhale, my entire body tensing as pleasure shoots through me like lightning. My head falls back, eyes squeezing shut, and I let out a low, guttural moan that I couldn't suppress if I tried.

"That's it," I rasp, forcing my eyes open to look down at her. "That's it, my good little slut. Fuck me with your hand."

She looks up at me with those wrecked, tear-streaked eyes, her hand still wrapped tight around my cock. Her grip is perfect—firm but not crushing, the pressure exactly where I need it.

"Please," she whispers, voice raw from choking on me. "Please, I need—put it back inside me. My pussy. Please, Master."

The word Master nearly breaks me. Seven months. Seven fucking months since I've heard that word from her lips.

I shake my head, grinning down at her. "No."

Her face crumples. "Please⁠—"

"Open," I command, gripping her jaw. "Wider."

She obeys immediately, and I slide my cock back into that wet heat. This time I don't force it. Don't shove deep enough to make her gag. Instead I fist her hair—both hands tangled in all that platinum blonde—and use it to guide her head exactly how I want.

Back. Forward. Slow circles that make her lips stretch around my shaft.

"That's it," I breathe, watching my cock disappear between her swollen lips. "Fuck, that's perfect. You're so fucking good at this, baby."

She moans around me, the vibration traveling straight up my spine. Her tongue works the underside, tracing the vein that runs along my length, and I have to force myself not to thrust hard enough to make her choke again.

Not yet.

I want her to finish me properly this time. Want to feel her take control, show me what she can do when she's not fighting for air.


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