is in my mouth and down my throat just like he promised me.
I swallow around him until he slides further down, cutting off my air completely and I feel like my throat is bulging with the heaviness of him.
He grunts like he’s in pain, then he starts to move his hips.
“Fucking perfect. Taking my cock like a fucking pro, barely fucking gagging. It’s enough to tempt a man to really fuck these pouty lips, see if I can make you cry so pretty.”
The words are like a sexy drawl, all confidence and arrogance that comes from being a big shot in his world. He’s a biker, the son of a long line of outlaws, grown up in the life and a clear path to whatever the hell he wants.
I bet he’s never slept in a car before.
I don’t cry. Not even when his hips start to really move, the tip of his dick nudging at my freaking voice box, and his hands jerking me further down his length. I don’t feel dirty or used because the sounds that come out of him… they’re like nothing I’ve ever heard before.
Doesn’t matter that he’s fucking my throat, I’m the one sending him over the edge. My mouth is the one sucking and swallowing and working him over even as my hands stay clasped tightly behind my back. I chose to be here on my knees and I’ve chosen to watch his every move, the hitch of his breath and the grunts he lets out, until I’m sure I’m giving him the blowjob of his life.
He pulls back at the last second and comes all over my face and chest. It misses my eyes but my makeup is ruined and I know I must look like every porn video ever with the fake lashes and red lipstick smeared around my face.
The hand in my hair tightens as he grunts and then he tips my head back to look over where he’s left his mark.
“So fucking pretty like that, Angel. Do you enjoy being on your knees for me in a strip club like a good little whore?”
The word whore cuts into me like he’s taken a knife to my skin, cutting away the last little threads of power I’d just felt, but I manage to keep it off of my face. I mean, he’s right. Here I am on my knees in the back room of some strip club, sucking off my boss, so yeah… I guess whore is the right word.
I want to die.
I want to go back to before I’d taken those shots and say no. Why had I let my guard down for a second? Why does his face feel like the home I never got to have and his arms around me feels like the heaven I’ll never get to?
He uses my hair to tug me to my feet, no caring touches or tenderness in him at all. This isn’t what I want.
He reaches for my panties and I flinch. A full body flinch away from his touch. I can’t. I can’t have him touching me, not now. I feel so fucking worthless and the shame from him seeing just how broken I am… fuck, I’m about to lose my shit, right here and now, covered in his cum.
He sees it on my face too.
“Fuck, there’s the little frosty bitch. I wondered when you’d remember and snap back to your usual fucking ways. Don’t wanna get off, Angel? Fine by me, I’m good,” he snaps, and tugs his hand out of my hair, buckling his jeans up and turning to the door without another word.
I stare at the ground and try not to fucking die.
I stay in the office for another few minutes, trying to stop myself from crying. When I’m finally sure I won’t burst into tears I get to my feet and poke around until I can find a box of tissues, cleaning up enough of the mess he’s made of my face that I think I can make it to the showers without completely shaming myself.
It’s too little, too late.
The second I open the door to leave the office I find a group of giggling women, all of them fresh outta the bar and witnesses to Tomi’s speedy exit.
“Fuck, girl, I’ve never seen that man look angry after he’s blown a load. You must be really fucking shit at sucking dick!” Diamond laughs and it nearly fucking kills me not to cry.