Chapter Text
“Just a little more. That’s it. Good girl.”
Zayne ends his praise with a soft sigh, the fingers around the back of your head loosening ever so slightly from their guiding force that drove your head lower in between his legs.
“Just stay there and try to relax. I’ll help you.”
With feet firmly planted to the floor on either side of your body, he adjusted his hips, leaning further back into the chair under him. His eyes remained closed, lashes fluttering and lips slightly parted before they pressed thin with a satisfied hum and he lifted himself ever so slightly.
The slide of his cock deeper into your throat was challenging as a muffled whimper rumbled in your chest and the corners of your eyes began to brim with tears.
But, it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Not yet, at least.
After all, this was what Zayne had wanted when he had suggested ‘throat training’ you after you expressed concerns about not being able to fully take him. The first time you had tried, you were left unable to speak for almost a week and had nearly choked to death before tapping out and apologizing profusely.
You could tell it was testing his patience, moving his hips in such a slow and teasing manner and fighting the urge to bury his length into the warmth of your mouth immediately. It was in the shaking of his breathing and the white knuckled grip of his hands against the sides of the chair.
Daringly meeting his gaze, you blinked once, silently signaling him to continue.
Perhaps it was the darkness in Zayne’s eyes that tempted you or maybe it was the bit of confidence you were gaining as he slid another inch of himself in, but something encouraged your hand as it reached out, cupping ahold of Zayne’s balls with a gentle grip.
“Shit.” The curse slips from Zayne’s lips on accident as his palm flies out, grasping hold of the back of your head with a firm grip.
It’s only seconds later that his hips jerk upwards again, but this time, instead of another inch of him surprising you, it’s the taste of his release on your tongue that causes you to stiffen.
Only when he’s spent, does he pull you off of him, chest heaving as he looks down at you with a wide eyed, concerned expression and with cheeks flushed. A swipe of his thumb against your lips removes the remainder of him that still lingers and only after does he assess your appearance and ensure no signs of distress does he give you a scolding scowl.
“You asked for my help yet you dare to test my limits by trying something new, not knowing what would happen. Keep your hands down and behave. We’ll try again in a moment.”