She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 554: If the Mouth Won’t Take It
Previously on She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother...
Alex stood with one shoulder against the stall door, weight settled, completely at ease. His mouth was curled in that same unhurried smirk as he looked down at the woman on her knees.
Naomi’s eyes were locked on him from below, wet and stubborn, as she threw every technique she possessed into the fight.
But it simply wasn’t enough.
Against an ordinary man, the scalding heat and rhythm of her mouth would have shattered his composure in seconds. But Alex remained an unyielding monolith, barely shifting as her best efforts were swallowed whole by his sheer scale.
Her jaw muscles ached with a dull, throb of exhaustion, pushed beyond their natural stretch for too long. A hot bead of moisture spilled over her lower lash line, trailing down her flushed cheek, followed quickly by another as her body betrayed her will. Saliva she couldn’t swallow slicked down the corner of her lips and dripped onto her knuckles.
Yet she refused to pull back.
Her pride was a vicious, unyielding vice. Even as her lungs starved for oxygen and her throat spasmed in panic, she kept her lips locked around his length, her fingers digging savagely into his thighs. She was losing, and she knew it, but she was too proud to be the one to tap out.
"What a stubborn little cat," Alex sighed.
His fingers tightened gently in her hair, anchoring her for a single, heavy heartbeat before he slowly drew his hips back.
With a slick, wet slide, he pulled himself free of her lips.
The sudden absence of pressure was violent.
Naomi gasped, her head falling forward as cool air rushed down her raw, burning throat in a ragged, whistling wheeze.
She clutched his knees to keep from collapsing flat against the cold marble floor, her chest heaving in frantic, shuddering hitches. A thin, glistening strand of saliva snapped between her bruised lower lip and the pale, flushed skin hovering inches from her face, catching the warm amber glow of the sconce.
For a fleeting second, every nerve in her body was grateful for the reprieve.
Then her pride caught up.
She dragged a ragged breath through her nose, swallowed the dull ache in her jaw, and forced the tremor out of her fingers. A stray lock of dark hair had plastered itself to her temple; she smoothed it back and wiped the corner of her swollen mouth with the back of her wrist. In a matter of seconds the mercenary mask was back in place, except the cool detachment was gone.
She glared up at him as if he had just committed an unforgivable offense, her brows knitted in a look of wounded, insulted pride. As far as she was concerned, she had been conducting a masterclass, and he had rudely cut her short.
"What was that for?" she rasped.
Her voice was raw, frayed at the edges from the strain, but it practically dripped with venom.
"I had everything completely under control."
Alex reached down, his thumb hooking beneath her chin to tilt her flushed, tear-streaked face back toward the amber light.
"You’d rather choke than admit you lost, wouldn’t you?" he murmured, lazy amusement running through his voice. His thumb swept across her cheek and caught the stray tear as if it belonged to him. "Your body’s already asking for mercy, sweetheart. You’re just too proud to listen."
Naomi scoffed, the sound catching on the raw scratch in her throat, though she didn’t pull her chin from his grip. "That wasn’t mercy. That was you panicking because I was about to break that smug composure of yours."
Alex’s mouth curved into a lethal, uneven smile.
He closed the last of the space between them until there was nothing left to hide behind. The thick, still-hard length of him brushed her cheek, hot and slick, leaving a faint wet mark against her skin as he leaned over her from above.
"Is that the story you’re telling yourself?" he asked softly. "That I pulled back because you had me?" His voice stayed mild, almost fond, which only made the mockery sharper. "Then stop talking and show me. Put it back in your mouth and finish what you started, darling. If you were really that close to breaking me, you should have no trouble doing it twice."
Naomi’s eyes dropped to him and stayed there.
The sheer size of him filled her vision again, flushed, glistening, close enough that the heat of it touched her lips. She swallowed hard. Want rose immediately, greedy and shameless; some reckless part of her still wanted to take the whole thing down her throat and wipe that smile off his face.
The memory rose with it just as fast, the way he had stretched her mouth to its limit, the way her throat had locked, the way air had vanished.
Hunger and caution tangled in her chest and left her frozen on her knees, staring at what she had already failed to conquer.
Alex watched the stillness settle over her and tipped his head.
"What happened, darling?" he murmured. "Cat got your tongue? Or have you decided you don’t want it anymore?"
Naomi did not answer him.
She rose from the marble instead, using his thighs for balance, her legs unsteady for a second before pride forced them straight.
The crimson dress fell back into place around her as she stood, and for a moment she only looked at him, breathing hard, eyes still wet, mouth still swollen. The challenge hung between them. She would not give him the satisfaction of another failed attempt on her knees.
If she could not take him in her mouth, she would take him the other way.
She reached under the hem of her dress and hooked her thumbs into the lace at her hips. The panties came down in one unhurried pull, dark silk sliding over her thighs until she stepped out of them and left them on the stall floor like something already discarded.
There was almost no room to move, but she used what little she had. Naomi turned toward the back of the stall with a slow, deliberate sway of her hips, the crimson dress clinging to the newly bared line of her ass as she took the two short steps available to her. She did not hurry. She made even that cramped pivot look like a choice.
Then she bent.
One palm flattened against the painted metal wall. The other found the closed lid of the toilet, and she leaned forward over it until the dress rode up the backs of her thighs on its own. She hooked two fingers in the hem and dragged it higher, baring herself in the narrow amber light, and settled her weight so the stall would hold her instead of his hands.
She looked back once over her shoulder, eyes still wet, mouth still swollen, the invitation already in her face before she gave it words.
"Well?" she said, looking back at him over her shoulder. "What are you waiting for? Put it in and find out whether I can take it."
Then she rolled her hips and shook her ass for him, slow enough to make it a dare instead of a stumble. The round flesh moved under the lifted silk with a soft, shameless jiggle, offering itself in the cramped amber light as if the stall had been built for this and nothing else.
Alex watched the performance without moving at first.
She was fine in every way that mattered in a space this small. The dress bunched at her waist. Her back arched just enough to present herself. Those round, heavy cheeks were enough to hold a man’s attention without another word, full and flushed, still shivering from the little shake she had given him.
Between them, her pussy was already wet. The folds glistened under the sconce, open enough that he could see her clench once in anticipation, then again, as if her body had decided ahead of her mouth.
Alex stepped in behind her.
His palm came down on one cheek in a single sharp slap that made the flesh jump and left a brief bloom of heat under his hand. He stayed there after it, gripping her hip as he lined himself up, the thick head of him resting against her without pushing in.
"You couldn’t take it in your mouth," he said, voice low and almost amused. "And I doubt this pretty little cunt can handle me either, darling."
Naomi’s fingers tightened on the toilet lid.
"Shut up," she said. "And fuck me."
Alex laughed under his breath, the sound unhurried and pleased.
"Eager, aren’t we?"
His hands closed harder around her waist, holding her in place against the stall as he lined himself up.
"As you wish."
He pushed.
The thick head forced her open on the first inch. Naomi’s breath tore out of her in a broken sound that was neither moan nor cry, her fingers going white against the toilet lid as he stretched her wider than anything she had taken before. The slick heat of her gave around him too slowly, too tightly, and still he kept coming, filling her in a steady, burning slide that left no room for pride.
"Ahh—"
The rest of it caught in her throat. He was still pushing.
