~Bonus Chapter for today:
This Chapter is dedicated to "lissa_Crowns". Thank you so much for the review!
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Georgia’s POV
I pressed my thighs together only to a limited degree, the heat between them unbearable as I glanced up at him through my lashes. "This is ridiculous, Nick! Let’s move sowhere else. I look like a frog here!" I hissed, cheeks burning.
Nick only smirked, eyes glinting with wicked satisfaction. "Exactly how I want you. Spread wide, vulnerable, ready, and dripping. You don’t look ridiculous, Georgia—you look like a feast. And besides..." he leaned closer, voice dropping into a husky growl, "...it’s my birthday, and this gift you gave ? I intend to enjoy every second of it."
He reached into the blue deck and flipped a card. His grin widened. "Would you look at that? It says you have to suck while I’m sitting until I cum." He turned the card so I could see it, teasing with proof of my fate.
My pulse skipped as he stood tall before , towering, unbuttoning his shirt one slow button at a ti as I looked up at him and him down on .
My breath caught as the fabric slid off his shoulders, landing on the sofa. Then his hands went to his belt, his zipper, his pants—gone. And there he was, gloriously bare, his cock thick, hard, and straining as if aching just for .
"Look at it," he said with a dark chuckle, stroking himself once, veins throbbing under his grip. "So eager for you it feels like it might burst."
He sank back down on the sofa, dragging it closer until his knees brushed my arms. One hand curled around the base of his cock, the other reaching to cup my chin, guiding forward. "Now..." his voice was a command and a plea all at once, "...do what the card says."
I licked my lips, heart hamring, and leaned in. My tongue slid from the heavy base of his shaft all the way up to the swollen tip. His hiss cut through the air, sharp and needy.
I did it again, slower, savoring the taste of his skin, the salt, the heat. Each ti his breath grew more ragged, his hips twitched forward as though he couldn’t help himself.
Finally, I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking softly before hollowing my cheeks.
"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice strained, low, "baby, you’re making so horny."
I began to move, slow strokes, letting my tongue swirl around him on the way up before sinking down again. His hands flew to my hair, gripping but not forcing, just holding, trembling.
"God, Georgia..." His head fell back against the sofa, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You’re getting so good at this."
I smirked around his length, intently speeding up, pushing him closer to the edge. His curses grew louder, his moans deeper, every sound making wetter, hungrier.
And when his grip tightened in my hair and his hips jerked forward, his voice broke into a hoarse, desperate groan. "Ahh... so fucking good, love. Don’t you dare stop."
I kept up my relentless rhythm, taking him deeper each ti I slid down, hollowing my cheeks and sucking harder as I pulled back up. The taste of him and the way his body trembled beneath my touch—it drove wild.
I glanced up at him whenever I could, catching sight of him sprawled on the sofa, his lips parted, brows drawn tight, every muscle taut as he tried to keep his composure. The sight only spurred on.
Each ti our eyes t, the hunger in his gaze darkened, growing more dangerous, more desperate. I knew it—his control was slipping, and I wanted to be the one to break him.
I pushed faster, deeper, taking him until my throat stretched and my jaw ached. His moans grew guttural, vibrating from deep in his chest. His grip on the sofa turned white-knuckled, while the other hand held my head in place, guiding , grounding himself.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck—baby, I’m gonna cum..." he hissed, his voice cracking with urgency.
He tugged my head up, but I defied him. Instead of pulling away, I pushed down harder, taking him all the way, bracing myself to take it all.
"My God—fuck, Georgia! Ahhh!" His roar filled the room as his body shuddered. His cock pulsed violently in my mouth, spilling hot, thick streams down my throat.
I held still, swallowing around him, refusing to waste a single drop. It was his birthday—he deserved everything.
"Don’t swallow," he gasped, fumbling for a tissue on the side table, his other hand trembling as he tried to steady . "Spit it here—quick." He brought it under my chin, trying to act fast and throw away what was left.
But it was too late. Most of him was already sliding down my throat, burning hot as it coated inside. Only a little escaped, clinging to the corner of my lips.
I coughed once as he slowly pulled out, my lips red and wet, my chest heaving, but I kept my eyes on him, smirking as I licked the corner of my mouth.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice husky but playful. His thumb brushed across my lips as he wiped the ss away, that wicked grin tugging at his mouth. "I told you not to swallow. It was too much." He chuckled, low and teasing.
I narrowed my eyes at him, breathless. "How could I not? You ca so fast and hard it went straight down my throat before I even had the chance to stop it!" My protest only made him laugh harder, his chest shaking.
Without warning, he reached for the half-finished glass of wine on the table. "Here, drink so," he said, but instead of offering it to , he took a slow sip himself. Then, leaning down, his mouth captured mine.
My eyes flew wide as the wine poured into from his mouth to mine, cool and sharp, forcing to swallow. So of it spilled down my chin, trickling toward my neck, and his tongue chased it like he was starving for more.
I gasped when we broke apart. "Nick! You can’t just do that without warning. Are you trying to drown ?"
His laugh rumbled deep, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Sorry, love. I just had to try it. And it was worth it."
Then, slowly, he picked up a card from the pink deck. His gaze lingered on the words, his smirk growing darker before his eyes snapped back to —hungry, devilish, teasing.
My curiosity spiked instantly. "What does it say?" I pressed, though my voice was already shaking with anticipation.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he slid his arms under and lifted as if I weighed nothing, laying back across the sofa. My legs spread helplessly, still bound wide by the bar, my wrists restrained. I could only watch him, my pulse racing, my body already begging.
Nick rifled through the box again, dragging out the suspense. "You’ll see..." he murmured, his smirk so sinful, it made my imagination run wild—images of wicked gas, and pleasures I wasn’t sure I was ready for... but desperately craved.
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