My Mouth Before 24

I didn’t know what game he was playing. But I did say ‘yes’.

Maybe because I missed the feeling of unraveling. Maybe because some masochistic part of me wanted to see how far he’d push—to test the edge of his obsession, to find the line he’d warned me not to cross.

Maybe I wanted to know what it would feel like to look into the mouth of madness and not flinch.

He texted me one word after:

Private Room Service: Tonight.

The coffee shop pickup felt like déjà vu with a side of psychological warfare. Adrian arrived exactly on time, opened the door for me without a word, and I climbed in like this was normal human behavior instead of the prelude to whatever fresh hell he’d designed for me.

No conversation. No eye contact. No pretense that this was anything other than what it was.

His estate looked different in the darkness—more imposing, more isolated. Every window was black except for that familiar red glow bleeding down the hallway.

The signal that we weren’t here for conversation or anything resembling normal human interaction.

We were here for something else entirely.

He didn’t speak until we reached the door. Then he turned and pulled out the mask—black satin, devastatingly familiar.

My pulse jumped. “Why the mask?”

Wrong question. I knew better by now.

He tilted his head with the kind of predatory patience that suggested he was already three moves ahead. “You’re not here to see me, princess. You’re here to feel me.”

Then he opened the door.

The room hit me like a physical force—scarlet light painting everything in shades of danger, leather walls that seemed to absorb sound, chains hanging like expensive jewelry.

The table in the center dominated the space, and I already knew I hated it, already knew I needed it.

“Clothes off. Now.” Adrian’s voice was low, commanding, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

I hesitated, just for a second, but that was enough.

He was on me in an instant, his hands rough and impatient. He yanked my shirt over my head, the fabric tearing as it caught on my earrings, and then he was pulling my skirt down, leaving me bare and exposed.

No teasing. No warm-up. Just his dominance and my submission.

He walked me to the table like I was a doll he was positioning.

“Hands flat. Knees wide. Ass up,” Adrian growled, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down my spine.

I obeyed, my body moving on its own, my hands slapping against the cold leather of the table, knees spreading wide while ass lifting in the air like an offering.

The restraints clicked shut before I could even brace myself, the cold bite of leather making me gasp. I was trapped, helpless, and the thought sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.

And then I heard it—soft, sharp, foreign. A breath that didn’t belong to either of us.

I turned my head, the restraints digging into my wrists as my gaze swept the room. And there, tucked into the shadows like a secret waiting to detonate, sat someone tied to a chair.

Rope wound around his arms and legs. Duct tape pressed over his mouth. But it was his eyes that hit hardest—wide, stunned, helpless.

Ethan.

Recognition crashed through me like a tidal wave. My ex. The boy who once called me frigid, sick. Who told me I was “too much.” The boy who walked away when I asked for more than he could handle.

Adrian’s voice curled around my ear, silken and sharp. “Now he gets to see the truth, princess. What he walked away from. What he never deserved.”

My lips parted in shock, but nothing came out. Words failed. Breath failed. All I could do was feel—humiliation, power, desire—flooding through me in equal measure.

Adrian hadn’t just exposed me. He’d transformed me. And Ethan… he was just the audience.

Frozen. Forgotten. Replaced.

My body jerked in the restraints. Shame, heat, disbelief, arousal—every emotion exploded through me at once.

“Wait, he… What is he—”

He cut me off with a slap, a jolt across my ass that made my breath leave me. “No speaking. Not unless that pretty mouth of yours is moaning my name.”

Adrian didn’t give me time to protest. His hands spread me wider and I whimpered, helpless to stop him. He slid his fingers down between my thighs, slow and thorough, finding me soaked.

“Oh, she’s dripping for it,” he said, deliberately loud enough for Ethan to hear. “Why act so shocked, princess? After everything you gave me? This body remembers who it belongs to.”

His fingers circled my clit with devastating precision. I moaned, face pressing into the leather, hips jerking against the restraints.

“He thought you were fragile,” Adrian continued, dragging one finger through my folds, spreading the wetness. “But it’s him who couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take what you really needed.”

Adrian’s tongue replaced his fingers without warning, licking a slow, possessive stripe up my pussy that made me cry out. My whole body trembled, mouth opened around a sound I couldn’t contain.

“Let him watch,” he murmured between licks, tongue circling my clit in cruel, lazy motions. “Let him see what he threw away.”

I twisted against the leather. Shame curled in my stomach like a snake, but the heat in my body betrayed me. Adrian knew it. He could feel it, taste it, feed on it.

“You don’t get to hide tonight,” he said, licking me like he wanted to wreck me open. “You’re going to take every second of this and you’re going to come for me. More than once.”

I sobbed against the leather, unsure if I was crying or moaning anymore. He slipped two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and I met Ethan’s wide, horrified gaze as I unraveled.

Adrian didn’t glance at him. Not once.

“This body,” he growled between strokes, “was never meant for him.”

He pulled back slightly and dragged his tongue from base to clit, slow and cruel. I cried out, trembling as another wave threatened to swallow me.

“Still think you need soft?” he murmured. “You want tender? Go ask the boy in the corner then, maybe he should try.”

I turned toward Ethan in reflex, but Adrian’s hand suddenly gripped my throat, reaching from the place where he sat under me, right between my wet thighs, and forced my gaze back down.

“No,” he said sharply. “Eyes on me.”

“I can’t,” I gasped.

His masked face hovered between my thighs, lips glistening. “You already did.”

He sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue flicking hard, relentlessly. My entire body locked, and I came again, loud and helpless. My vision blurred when I shook.

“There it is,” he said softly. “That lovely sound. That’s mine.”

A strangled sound came from Ethan, half growl, half humiliation. But Adrian didn’t stop after that. Just pressed a kiss just above where I still pulsed—deliberate, worshipping, like I was an altar and he was praying.

Then he kissed my inner thigh, right before he stood and added, low and filthy: “This is what it looks like when you’re finally where you belong.”

I was shaking, limbs limp in the cuffs, body quivering from overstimulation. But I heard it—the sound of a zipper.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw how he was already hard, his arousal straining against his pants.

Adrian stepped in front of the table, unlatched the cuffs on my wrists before he undid his belt with slow, deliberate hands. His eyes locked on mine as he pulled out his cock—thick and heavy, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

He gripped it in his hand, stroking it slowly as he looked down at me.

“Kneel,” he commanded, his voice low and dark.

I hesitated for just a second, my eyes flicking to Ethan in the corner. Adrian’s hand gripped tightly my hair, yanking my head back sharply.

“I said kneel,” he growled in my mouth, his voice full of menace.

I obeyed, sliding off the table and dropping to my knees in front of him. His cock was right there, inches from my face, the scent of him filling my nostrils. I looked up at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for his next command.

Adrian smirked down at me, his hand still gripping his cock as he leaned in close.

“Open wide, princess,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “It’s time to show your ex what you’re really made of.”