Vanished In Newark (Vanished) - Page 8

“Mr. O’Brien,” Matt from the store says handing me the bag.

“Thanks, I say, taking it. I also reach out and take the bag from the other kid.

“Thanks, Naveen,” Lorielle says. I close the door before anyone can say anything else.

“That was rude,” she says. “We didn’t tip them.”

“I paid the delivery fee,” I reply.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“So what?”

“Naveen is saving for college by working at his family’s restaurant. I don’t know the other kid but come on. You remember what it was like needing money at that age don’t you?”

“No,” I say shrugging. “I never wanted for anything.”

“That must have been nice,” she says under her breath.

“Alright, I’ll go tip them,” I say taking forty dollars off of the tray on the counter.

“Thank you.”

I catch both of them before they get back on their bikes and run back inside. It’s a brisk twenty-three degrees outside and I am not wearing shoes or a shirt. Inside, the TV is on. She brought the food over to the coffee table and made us some drinks.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the TV.

“The first episode of Vikings,” she says. “I thought we’d both like it.”

We eat in silence, watching the show. It’s fucking brutal and I love that. After dinner, we clean, and she goes into the bathroom. I head down the hallway and into my bedroom, where I brush my teeth. A few minutes later she joins me. She asked no questions about where she was going to be sleeping. It was a foregone conclusion that it’d be in here, right next to me.

“Is this where the magic happens?” she asks, looking around my sparsely decorated room. My circular bed takes up the center of the back wall and there’s not much else in here, to be honest. I don’t stay here much.

“I don’t know, let’s find out,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to the bed.

If I’m not careful, I’ll be the one begging.

SIX

LORIELLE

When he takes my hand, I know what’s about to happen. I want it to happen. The buttons on the shirt I’m wearing go flying, pinging around the room when he rips it open. He pulls it down my arms and I’m naked in front of him again. When he takes those stupid, sexy shorts off, my mouth drops open. His cock is massive. I immediately drop to my knees in front of him. It was unbidden. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I want him in my mouth. Fuck that, I want him everywhere, but I’m going to start here. He’s looking down at me like I have three heads or something. I bet my last dollar he’s as new to this as I am, despite being a newly appointed mob boss.

“What are you doing?” he asks as I grip his hips pulling him toward me. Then I take his hard cock in hand, pumping it in my fist before wrapping my lips around it. “You don’t have to do this, baby. You don’t have to Lorielle, but don’t fucking stop,” he orders as I really take him down my throat. His hands tangle in my hair but he doesn’t try to move my head, he lets me lead.

I moan around him, ridiculously aware that I am so wet, wetter than I ever have been, that I’m so turned on from pleasuring him that I think I can come without touching myself. I’ve never done this before, but I feel so powerful right now. I feel like this is where I’m meant to be.

On my knees, worshiping the most powerful man in Newark. I’m a fucking queen and he’s my king. I didn’t know what to expect when I was taken but now I do. His hands tighten in my hair and cock throbs in my mouth, then he fills it with his come. I try to swallow all of it, but there’s too much. It pours out of my mouth, down my chin, and onto my chest. His knees buckle, but he doesn't fall. That powerful feeling from before doesn’t even hold a candle to how I’m feeling now.

“Jesus, you look amazing covered in my seed,” he says, rubbing some of it into my chest. Why is that so hot? It should be depraved, but instead, all I want to do is be used by him until I can’t tell where I end, and he begins. What doesn't get rubbed in, I scoop up in my hand and put it in my mouth as seductively as I can manage. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again.” His growl goes all through me. “Get on the fucking bed.” I jump up and do what he says. His face is buried in my pussy before my very next breath. I scream in delight as he goes right for my clit with his talented tongue. My hands fist into his hair. Not for guidance, he doesn’t need that. I need to hold on to it.

Tags: M.K. Moore Erotic
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