Vardo’s breaths grew ragged, hips bucking. ‘Good girl. Now, deeper—take all of me.’ He pushed forward, burying himself until her nose pressed against his pubic bone, her throat convulsing around him. She gagged, saliva bubbling at the corners of her mouth, but held, humming vibrations along his length. He dictated more: ‘No contacts with the press. Swear it on this dick.’ Pulling back, he slapped it against her tongue, strings of spit connecting them.
Nia gasped for air, lips swollen and shiny. ‘I swear,’ she rasped, before diving back in, sucking with renewed fervor. Her hands gripped his thighs, nails digging in as she deepthroated him again, head bobbing frantically. The role-play blurred into reality—her submission a shield against the whistleblower’s blade, Vardo’s dominance the only
