"Mmm..."

The small sound escaped her throat before she could stop it... half-surprise, half-curiosity... as the reality of him on her tongue registered.

But the second shock was the sheer, physics-defying size of him.

Even just accommodating the head, Catherine's jaw ached, stretched painfully wide, the muscles trembling instantly under the demand of a dimension she had severely underestimated.

Reality, she realized with a jolt of panic, was far heavier than imagination.

She was paralyzed by the fear of doing it wrong, of scraping him with her teeth, of proving herself inadequate after talking so big.

Then she felt his hand settle on the back of her head.

It wasn't a rough grab. It was warm, heavy, supportive.

His fingers threaded into her hair, gripping lightly at the scalp. A silent anchor in the storm of sensation.

"Relax your throat, Catherine," Alex's voice came from above, strained but commanding. "Don't just hold me. Taste me."

The order cut through her panic. Taste him.

She could do that.

Tentatively, she moved her tongue. It felt clumsy at first, too large in her own mouth, brushing against the velvet-smooth skin of the glans.

She traced the sensitive ridge, experimenting with pressure, and felt a violent jolt go through his thighs against her chest.

His hand tightened in her hair. A sharp intake of breath hissed through his teeth.

'That.'

The sound ignited something in Catherine's brain. It wasn't just arousal; it was the cold, sharp thrill of efficacy.

The control freak in her woke up. She had caused that reaction. She had found a button, and now she wanted to press it again.

Emboldened, she tried again. She sealed her lips tighter around him, creating a vacuum, and swirled her tongue over the slit at the tip.

"Mmmph—"

The pleased hum vibrated against his sensitive flesh as she tasted the bead of moisture there.

"Ffff—yes. Just like that."

The praise acted like a drug. The part of her that starved for validation soaked it up, while her analytical mind processed the data:

'Suction works. The tip is deadly.'

She wasn't just performing an act anymore; she was mastering a system.

She began to move her head, slowly at first, sliding up and down the few inches she could comfortably accommodate. It wasn't enough. She needed more of him.

She used her hand to wrap around the base, stroking the length her mouth couldn't take, creating a long, slick tunnel of warmth.

"God, you're good," Alex groaned, his voice rougher now, the cool amusement evaporating.

She was figuring him out. She discovered the sensitive seam running along the underside of his shaft and ran the flat of her tongue along it.

"Mmmmmm..."

The deliberate hum vibrated against the vein, and she felt the reaction instantly.

His hips bucked forward involuntarily, thrusting into her mouth.

"Ah—!"

Catherine's surprised sound was muffled, choked, as he filled her mouth more suddenly than expected.

"Catherine... fuck..."

The swear word, ripped from the composed Alexander Hale, was the ultimate victory.

A savage sense of power surged through her. She was on her knees, jaw aching, throat raw, tears pricking the corners of her eyes from the effort... yet she was the one making him unravel.

She picked up the pace.

"Mmph—mmph—mmph—"

The wet, rhythmic sounds of her mouth working grew louder, more explicit, mixing with the salt-and-metal taste she was growing to love.

She loved that his hand was clutching her hair not just for guidance now, but because he needed something to hold onto to keep from falling apart.

"Deeper," he growled, his control fraying.

"Take it deeper."

Catherine obeyed. She relaxed her throat... a trick she was learning in real-time... and pushed down.

"Mmph—ngh—"

She hit her limit, gagging, the wet choking sound raw and obscene as he touched the back of her throat, eyes watering profusely.

"Hhhh—"

Catherine gasped around him, saliva flooding her mouth, but she didn't pull back.

She forced herself to hold him there, to let him own her mouth completely.

Alex lost it.

"That's it," he rasped. "You perfect, dangerous thing."

His grip on her hair shifted... no longer supportive but possessive. His fingers tightened, turning iron-hard, and he stopped waiting for her rhythm entirely.

He began to fuck her mouth.

It wasn't gentle anymore. He thrust upward, sharp and rhythmic, using her mouth like it was made for him... and all Catherine could do was kneel there and take it.

"Ah—mmph—ngh—ah—"

Her moans became helpless sounds forced from her throat with each thrust... desperate, overwhelmed, completely beyond her control now.

The wet, explicit sounds filled the afternoon air... the slap of his hips driving upward, the gagging as he hit the back of her throat repeatedly, the obscene soundtrack of her complete surrender.

It was degrading. It was overwhelming. It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her.

"Look at me," Alex commanded.

Catherine's gaze snapped up to meet his, tears streaming down her cheeks as he continued his relentless pace.

The eye contact was devastating.

"Mmmm..."

She hummed around him despite the roughness, wanting him to see exactly how much she was enjoying this... how much she loved being used like this.

Something about looking up at him while he fucked her mouth, while her jaw ached from the stretch, while those desperate little sounds kept escaping her throat with each thrust... it made everything more intense.

More intimate.

More real.

"God, Catherine," Alex said, voice rough and ragged. "You look fucking perfect like this."

"Mmm—!"

The pleased moan vibrated against his shaft even as he drove deeper, and warmth flooded through her at the praise.

Her hands clutched his thighs, not to control the pace but simply to hold on as he used her, as he drove into her mouth with increasing desperation.

Her jaw ached. Her throat protested. Tears continued streaming from the corners of her eyes.

But none of it mattered.

All that mattered was the weight of him on her tongue, the taste flooding her senses, the sight of his composure fracturing with each thrust of his hips, and the desperate sounds he was forcing from her throat that proved exactly how thoroughly he owned her in this moment.

"You're perfect," Alex managed, voice strained and breaking. "So fucking perfect."

"Mmmm..."

The satisfied hum vibrated around him even as she struggled to breathe between his increasingly frantic thrusts.

Alex's breathing grew ragged, his rhythm becoming erratic, and Catherine felt the tension coiling in him... the approaching edge he was racing toward.

"Catherine—" His voice carried warning as his hips stuttered. "I'm close. I'm going to—"

Alex pulled back just enough that his length left her mouth with a wet sound, giving her one last chance to refuse.

"Fill my mouth," Catherine whispered, her voice wrecked and husky. "Give it to me, Alex. All of it."

She opened wide, tongue flattening, ready to catch everything, ready to swallow him whole and claim this final victory even from her knees.

"Fuck—" Alex groaned, a sound of defeated surrender.

His hand returned to her hair, gripping tight, and he thrust back into her mouth with renewed intensity... once, twice...

His entire body went rigid.

"Catherine—fuck—"

She felt him pulse on her tongue.

Hot.

Thick.

Overwhelming.

The first surge flooded her mouth, bitter and salt, and Catherine swallowed reflexively, determined to take everything he gave.

But there was so much.

More than she'd anticipated. More than she was prepared for.

The second pulse filled her mouth completely, and Catherine swallowed again, struggling, her throat working frantically as she tried to keep up with the sheer volume.

"Mmph—!"

The third surge was too much.

Her mouth was already full, and as more flooded onto her tongue, it began to overwhelm her completely. She swallowed desperately, but she couldn't keep pace—

It started spilling.

Thick white began seeping from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin in slow, obscene trails despite her best efforts to contain it.

"Ngh—"

Catherine's muffled sound was half-effort, half-desperation as she tried to swallow everything, tried to prove she could take it all, but gravity and volume defeated her.

More spilled from her lips, dripping down onto her chest, painting white streaks across her flushed skin.

Alex was still pulsing, still filling her mouth faster than she could swallow, and Catherine felt the hot evidence of her failure — or perhaps her success at driving him to such complete release — coating her lips, her chin, beginning to drip onto her thighs.

She kept swallowing — desperate, determined — even as the mess continued, even as she felt it sliding down her throat and simultaneously escaping her mouth in equal measure.

Finally — finally— Alex's body relaxed, his grip on her hair loosening as the last pulses subsided.

Catherine pulled back slightly, gasping, mouth still full, and swallowed one final time.

Her lips were slick and white. Her chin was streaked with it. Her chest was spattered with the evidence of what she couldn't contain.

But her eyes... her eyes were bright with savage triumph.

She'd made Alexander Hale come so hard he'd overwhelmed her completely.

She opened her mouth slightly, tongue visible, showing him the last of what remained before swallowing it deliberately, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

"Perfect," Alex breathed, staring down at her like she was something divine and profane simultaneously.

Catherine's tongue darted out, licking her lips, tasting him, tasting victory—

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The shout shattered the air like a gunshot.

It was loud. Violent. Close.

It tore through the haze of lust with the force of a physical blow.

Catherine's head snapped toward the entrance of the courtyard, the movement so sudden that a drop of white slid from her chin and landed on her bare thigh.

The rage hit instantly.

Cold. Sharp. Absolute.

'Who?'

Who dared? Who dared to trespass here? Who dared to interrupt this moment?

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the evidence across her cheek without thinking, and her vision focused on the stone archway.

The figure standing there.

The white knuckles gripping the stone.

The face twisted in a mask of horror that Catherine had never seen before.

Standing there, staring down at her, who was on her knees with Alex's cum painting her face and chest, was ....

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