A missed lunge and the wind is ripped from my lungs as you coolly twist me in the air before pressing your heel to my chest.
You always put me in my place. Whimpering, I look up at the small nick on your cheek. The crimson life that dribbles out is so appetizing. I can smell it, smell you in that life, and I want you so bad.
You take notice of my need and glance in the mirror. “Dammit, I hate shaving,” you mumble. You grab a bit of toilet paper to wipe the blood, but you stop when I whine.
“No,” you say, your expression showing exasperation… but amusement flickers in your eyes.
“I want it, Master,” I whine, before you roll your eyes. After a moment you let your heel up. Jumping up I squeal with delight, wrapping you in a hug that nearly crushes your bones.
Ignoring your protests, I lick the cut… and moan at your taste. Instantly my body shudders, and I press my lips to your cheek. You taste like candy and like the finest meat all in one. Wrapped in your your taste, my knees buckle.
The energy flows through my body and as it runs down between my legs my pussy pulses with life as I begin to suck harder, my nails digging into your back. I hear you moan quietly.
But a cheek cut doesn’t bleed for long, and my lips pull away and I look into your eyes. “Please…” ‘fuck me’ are the next words, but I’m too shy to say them out loud.
You look down at me and smile, patting my head… before getting a fistful of my hair as I squeal joyously.