Red Thorns (Thorns Duet #1) by Rina Kent

Her eyes widen, but she nods as she closes her lips around my dick and sucks at a moderate pace.

“Are you sure you want to get me off? Because at this rate, I’ll be falling asleep.”

She frowns, and sucks harder, a challenge sparking in her eyes. But she’s not dropping the act of pretending to be clueless.

Wait a fucking second.

Maybe it’s not an act.

“Holy fuck. You’ve never put a dick between those pretty lips before, have you?”

It’s barely visible, but a slight blush creeps up her cheeks as her gaze turns downcast. I tighten my hold on her hair and pull her attention back to me, her huge eyes imploring, almost begging me to tell her what to do.

Why is that such a turn-on?

I shouldn’t help her win, but I couldn’t give two fucks about that right now. The fact that she’s on her knees for the first time ever, that she’s so inexperienced in giving blowjobs that she’s actually looking at me for pointers is a moment I want to tuck in a secret box and revisit later.

A weird sense of possessiveness grips me by the fucking ball. She’s like this for me.

Only me.

“Use your tongue,” I tell her firmly but not harshly.

She complies, unhurriedly at first, as if getting a feel for me, but then her rhythm picks up, matching my thudding heartbeat.

“Hollow your cheeks as you suck, baby,” I growl.

Naomi is a fast learner. She doesn’t even need me to tell her how to alternate between sucking and licking and figures it out on her own.

Her technique is still sloppy at best, but she makes up for it with the force of her determination. With the challenge shining in her dark gaze. With how her entire body is in tune with her strokes.

“Stop,” I grit out from between clenched teeth.

She does, her brows drawing together.

“Open your mouth the widest possible and keep it that way.”

When she does, I pull out to the tip, then thrust in, hitting the back of her throat over and over. I use her hair to keep her head steady and in the same position.

Moisture shines in her eyes and a shudder invades her.

She doesn’t fight, though. Even as her gag reflex kicks in. Even when she drools, her face reddening, and the tears finally spill free.

They’re curious ones, her tears, and there’s this primal need pulsing inside me to see more of them. To smear them on her face with my fucking cum.

It’s the first time I’ve ever thought about tears in such a way.

On her, they’re a different way where I can dominate her until her submission rips free through them.

Naomi still doesn’t attempt to push me away like any normal person who’s having breathing problems would.

In fact, she tries her hardest to keep her mouth open for me.

Fucking fuck.

She’s a lot more than I initially thought. The need for more shining in her teary eyes matches the raging urge inside me.

I don’t hold back as I thrust to the back of her throat, claiming her wet heat over and over again.

My groans echo the sloppy sounds of my dick sliding in her mouth, rubbing against her tongue and slamming at the back of her throat. I choke her with it until her cheeks and neck turn a deep shade of red and her face is a map of drool, tears, and precum. I use her with a brutality that consumes me, and her, judging by how she gasps in air, then quickly opens her mouth.

She might be inexperienced, but the pleasure is nothing like any professional-level blowjob I’ve had before.

I want to last longer, to dominate her until nothing is left, but I can’t.

The orgasm is so strong and sudden that it takes me a while to empty my cum down her pretty throat.

Then, before I’m done, I pull out and finish on her face, smearing her petite nose, her plump lips, and her soft cheeks. Even her eyelashes. I mark her in a way I’ve never felt the need to mark anyone before.

Fuck.

She won.

But it’s not only about the bet. As I stare at her satisfied expression, even as cum and tears mar it, I feel like she won something else, too.





12





Naomi





If going to college was hard before, it’s now close to impossible.

On Monday, I walk down the hall like a druggie experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. Not only are my fingers twitchy, but I keep watching my back as if expecting a sudden attack.

Okay, that’s an exaggeration.

Or is it?

I honestly don’t know anymore. I spent the whole weekend overthinking until my head nearly exploded. I didn’t find the same level of joy in bingeing on my true crime shows and podcasts.

Instead, I kept replaying what happened two days ago in the haunting darkness of the forest.

The chase. The blowjob. How Sebastian came all over my face.

It should’ve been humiliating, right? But I found myself staring at the mirror, recalling how I looked after he drove me home.

I was a mess, but not in the negative sense—far from it. It’s the most beautifully haunting mess I’ve ever had the chance to witness, to breathe in and feel up close.

Sebastian sent me a text that night. No clue how he got my phone number or even knew my address.

But then again, the Weaver surname could probably get him anything he wants. Including people’s private information.

Sebastian: I’ll dream of my cum on your face, Tsundere.