Page 94 of Roped

My heart is slamming in my chest, wanting to know what that liquid tastes like, the one that’s clear and dripping down the head of his cock, rather than ask my stupid questions. “You know what, it’s not—”

“You’ve got three seconds,” he warns, his fingers in my hair flexing and gripping me harder, the green in his eyes all dark and intense.

I know what he’s doing. He’s toying with me like the hunter he is, and like the prey I am, I let him. Swallowing thickly, I ask, “Um, h-how old are you?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I lose my breath. Because in response, he grips his length, his fingers long and thick, scarred, going around his cock and giving it a pull. Then, “Thirty-one.”

“Holy…” I breathe out as another drop of pre-cum oozes out and drips down, wetting his fingers this time.

“What, too old for a young thing like you?” he asks, giving his cock another pull.

I lick my lips again and shake my head, my eyes glued to his hand. “No, I… You’re… only t-twelve years older.”

Another tug of his cock and his abs flex. “Am aware.”

“I—”

“Would get a complex, but the way you keep starin’ at my cock like a cum-hungry slut, I know I do it for you,” he says, his voice mean and delicious, making me moan. “Not to mention, any time I look at you, your pussy gets so wet, I could smell you from miles away if I wanted to.”

“Radisson, I—”

“Next,” he calls out, fisting my hair.

I squirm, my thighs wet from my juices. “But I—”

He tsks, using my hair as a leash and shaking my head. “Be a good girl, yeah? Don’t make me come for that ass first thing in the mornin’.”

If he wants me to be a good girl, he shouldn’t talk about my ass like that. Or play with his cock the way he’s doing. But I know he wants to torture me because he gets off on it, and I let him because I get off on it too.

“Right.” I clear my throat and look back into his eyes that have gone darker. “What’s your… favorite color?”

“Pink.”

That gives me pause. “Your favorite color is pink?”

He nods. “The color of your cheeks. When I stare at you too hard and for too long.” I squirm again and he keeps going, “And the color of your cunt. Deep and dark. Rich. Especially after I’ve sucked it and made it come.”

“You—”

“Didn’t have a favorite color before you.” Then, “Next.”

It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings, and it doesn’t help that I notice another drop of pre-cum oozing out, wetting his fingers. “What’s your f-favorite food?”

“Think you know that one, given I ate it three times last night.”

My pussy clenches so hard, it feels like I’m coming. Then, “So what’s your second-favorite food?”

“Pancakes.”

“Seriously?”

“Could eat ’em all day, every day.”

“I can make pancakes,” I tell him excitedly because I can.

His lips twitch. “Next.”

“Will you teach me how to suck it?” I blurt out at last. Because honestly, I don’t remember my own name, let alone everything I wanted to ask. Plus, this seems like the most important question right now.