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  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Without Me (Page 33)     
    Without Me(Men of Inked #7) by Chelle Bliss
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    “I’m sorry,” she whispered on my lips as she crawled in my lap.

    It was about the fifth time she’d called it off and then begged my forgiveness over the last two months. I had come to her house with a plan. I’d fuck her like she’d never been fucked and leave.

    Being led by the balls and strung along had been exhausting. It had taken a toll on my music, my work, and my sleep. I was done with feeling like shit. Her moods were too much for me to handle. I wouldn’t be a pawn in her life anymore. I was more than a cock and a secret.

    “I can’t do this anymore, Max.” I slumped in the chair and held her hips. “I can’t keep taking you back. I won’t do it again.” I shook my head, unable to comprehend how she had changed me.

    “I promise it’ll be different. You just don’t understand what I’m going through, Anthony.” She gripped my shirt, rubbing the material between her thumb and index fingers. “It’s so hard having so much love for you and not knowing how to handle it.”

    “What’s to handle? Just feel it and let it happen. Stop running away like a scared child. It’s time to grow the fuck up.” I played with the loop on her jeans, focusing my attention away from the squeezing pain in my chest.

    She had ruined me. Totally destroyed the man I had been not that long ago at the Ritz. I had been a cocky motherfucker who had life by the balls. Now a woman was holding mine in a vise. I’d never understood what my brothers had gone through when they had met “the one.” I had ridiculed them and thought they were pussies, but now, I knew. Love wasn’t something you could turn off or deny. It became part of you, an ache so deep and full that it had to be filled to feel alive.

    I needed to go to an addiction meeting. I needed to admit to someone outside of my family that I was Anthony Gallo and I had lost my way and needed salvation. I needed redemption from a path so cruel that I was a shell of my former self. I hated Max and myself. Her even more for the hell she’d put me through the last couple of months.

    Everything in my life was as fake as Kim Kardashian’s ass on the cover of Paper magazine. I pretended not to have a girlfriend, she hid me from everyone but Malia and Nita, and we ignored the future. Actually, we swept it under the rug, pretending it wasn’t something we’d have to face soon.

    She arched forward, pushing her breasts into my chest. “I promise, Anthony. I’ll do better.”

    “I deserve better,” I replied. “I’ve become a better man since I’ve known you. I’m a shell of my former self, Max. The asshole you met in the bar deserves how you’re treating me, but the man sitting before you right now…sure as fuck doesn’t.”

    “You’re right,” she said as she snaked her arms behind my neck. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you, baby.” She gave me a devilish grin that made my cock take notice.

    “I like the sound of that.” I smiled at her, feeling an aching in my balls. I’d spent three days without her and felt the loss in more than my heart.

    “I can do that special thing you like so much. It’s been a while.” She licked my lips as she reached down and palmed my cock.

    “Mmm,” I murmured as I pressed my lips to her mouth, getting lost in her taste. “Kitty Cat,” I whispered into her mouth, “I want you to make me believe that you mean it this time.”

    She pulled her lips away and gave me a lopsided smirk. “I can do that,” she promised before she crawled out of my lap, sliding down my legs.

    Her fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans. It took her longer than usual to unfasten them.

    “Sorry,” she said, glancing up at me. “My fingers don’t want to work.”

    I placed my hands on her fingers. “Take your time. I’m in no rush, and it’s not your fingers I care about right now,” I said as I lifted my arms and laced my hands behind my head.

    “I’m sure you aren’t.” She smiled as the button popped. “Finally.” She breathed a sigh of relief as she dragged the zipper down.

    As she opened my jeans, I lifted my ass for her to drag my pants down, giving my aching cock the freedom it had been demanding.

    “So you want…” she said before she licked the head of my cock.

    My body vibrated, craving more of the warmth that only her mouth could provide.

    “…it slow or fast?” she asked before drawing the tip into her mouth.

    I shuddered and lost my breath. As my eyes rolled back, I tried to form words but couldn’t.

    “Like this?” She drew my entire length into her mouth, swallowing the head as it hit the back of her throat.

    “God,” I moaned as she began to drag my dick back out while pushing her tongue on the underside.

    “Mmm,” she hummed with the head, dragging my dick back inside.

    The vibrations rocked my world. A white-hot streak of pleasure shot straight to my balls, causing the need to amplify. I didn’t think I could’ve handled slow, no matter how badly I wanted to make the moment last.

    The warmth of her mouth mixed with the noises she made had me picturing shit that wouldn’t drive me over the edge. I wanted to watch. Seeing a woman devouring your cock is one of the sexiest things in the world. It plays over and over again in a man’s mind for hours after it happens.

    I closed my eyes, shutting out everything but how her mouth felt and her tiny groans as she sucked me off. Her pace was slow as she took her time and paid special attention to the tip. Each time her tongue whirled by my piercings, I lost my breath. The tug of her teeth pulled deep inside my dick. It was the piercing that caused it. I’d picked that type of piercing because it’s the most pleasurable for a man. Even though I cared about the orgasm of whichever woman I was with, ultimately, I wanted mine to be better…more explosive.

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