Chapter 139 - ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY NINE

Chapter 139: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY NINE

ANGEL

"You hurt it. Made it bleed. And now you’re going to kiss it better. You’re going to apologize with that pretty mouth. Every lick is an apology. Every kiss is a promise to be good for Daddy."

"Never." The word came out weaker, a hiss instead of a roar.

He grabbed my hair and dragged me up to my knees, positioning my face in front of his cock. It was still hard—how was it still hard after everything?—still wet with my spit, veiny and raging from where I’d bitten. A thin trail of blood ran down the shaft, mixing with precum.

"You see this?" He grabbed his shaft and pressed the head against my mouth, smearing the sticky wetness—blood and spit and precum—across my lips like war paint. "Look at the marks your teeth left." He angled it toward me so I could see—the faint indentations where I’d bitten. "And now you’re going to make it better. You’re going to kiss every mark. Lick every inch. Apologize until my cock forgives you."

I kept my mouth shut, glaring up at him with every ounce of hatred I had left.

His hand cracked across my already-burning cheek. Stars exploded behind my eyes. "I said kiss it."

Tears sprang to my eyes from the sting, blurring my vision. But I refused to bend.

He fisted my hair tighter, yanking until my scalp screamed, until I was certain strands were tearing free. "Every second you refuse is another minute I spend spanking your ass raw. Is that what you want? You want me to bend you over and spank you until you can’t sit? Until you’re sobbing and begging and promising me anything just to make it stop?"

My ass was already on fire. Every nerve ending shrieking. Even the brush of air against my abused skin sent waves of agony through me. The thought of more—another round of that brutal, relentless punishment—made my stomach clench with genuine dread.

"Kiss. My. Cock."

Something inside me cracked. A fissure running through my defiance.

I leaned forward, my lips barely brushing the angry red head. The lightest touch possible. Even that small contact left the taste of him on my mouth—salty, musky, unmistakably male, with the metallic tang of blood underneath.

"That’s not a kiss." He yanked my hair again, wrenching a whimper from my throat. "That’s an insult. Do it properly. Kiss it like you mean it. Like you’re genuinely fucking sorry for what you did."

I pressed my lips against the tip, lingering this time. Soft. I could feel the heat of him against my mouth, the steady throb of his pulse beneath the silky skin. More precum leaked from the slit, the taste flooding my senses—shamefully familiar.

"Better." His voice had roughened, his breathing heavier. "Now say it. Say you’re sorry as you lick it up."

"I’m s-sorry," I whispered against his flesh, my lips moving against the wet head, tasting him with every word. The words felt like razors in my throat.

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry for..." I swallowed hard, "For biting your cock."

"Good girl." He groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure satisfaction. "Now kiss it again. Show my cock you mean it."

I pressed another kiss to the tip, then another, feeling more wetness leak against my lips. His cock twitched with each kiss, jumping against my mouth. He groaned above me, a deep rumbling sound that I felt more than heard.

"Fuck, that’s it." His grip on my hair loosened just slightly, his hips pushing forward, seeking more contact. "Mmm, fuck." He groaned again, louder this time, his head falling back. "That’s it. Just like that. Worship it. Promise my cock you’ll never hurt it again. Say you’ll treat it with the respect it deserves."

The humiliation burned hotter than my cheek. Hotter than my ass. But I forced the words out anyway, my lips moving against his wet flesh. I could feel myself crumbling. Feel the fight bleeding out of me with every degrading kiss.

And the worst part—the absolute worst part—was that I meant it. In that moment, with my ass on fire and my face throbbing and his taste flooding every corner of my mouth, I meant every pathetic word.

He’d won.

Again.

"Lower," he ordered, his voice thick with pleasure. "Kiss my balls. Apologize to them too. They felt every bit of that bite."

I ducked lower without argument, my face pressing into the musky heat between his thighs. The smell was overwhelming here—concentrated arousal and sweat and male dominance. I pressed my lips to his sac, feeling the soft, heavy weight of him against my mouth.

"I’m sorry," I whispered against them, my breath hot on his flesh. "I’m sorry."

"Suck them. Gently. Show me how sweet that mouth can be when you’re not trying to bite pieces off me."

I took one into my mouth, the weight of it filling me, and sucked gently, coating him in saliva. My hand came up to stroke his shaft—automatic, trained, my body remembering what my mind wanted to forget.

"Holy fuck." He groaned loudly, his hips jerking. "That’s it. That’s my good girl. Sucking my balls like a perfect little slut."

His balls were wet with my spit when I released them with a soft pop. I licked my way back up his shaft, awaiting his next command.

"Now suck my cock properly. Don’t make me punish you again."

His cock dangled in my face, thick and unforgiving. I parted wide, taking him in, relaxing my jaw, and letting him slide past my lips until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged.

"Choke on it. Let me hear you like the good little cock slut you are as I fuck your brains out."

I hummed around him, the vibration making him shudder and groan.

He shoved into my mouth again, and something happened that I didn’t expect.

Heat pooled low in my belly. A familiar ache between my thighs that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with—

No.

Not again. But my body didn’t listen. My body never fucking listened.