I was continually humbled by his patience. The inherent power of feeling like I could have my way with him. The kindness in his patience made me want to be bold. To tease.
Following this desire, I kept my grip loose as I wrapped a hand around the base, just enough pressure that he would feel it. But not enough.
He cut off a moan, keeping still. The only sign I had of how affected he was, was the curling and unfurling of his toes. I was impressed with his willpower.
When I made no further movements, his eyes opened, and I waited until our eyes locked before slowly licking him from root to tip. His jaw clenched, eyes fluttering briefly before pining me with a hungry stare. Still, he remained silent.
A game, then.
Maintaining his gaze, I continued to lavish him with my tongue. Then, because I needed to get a reaction from him, needed to hear him, I sucked his tip into my mouth, enjoying the rich, salty taste as it burst across my tongue.
His groan was guttural, a rumble in the darkness. His body seemed to hum with it, and I felt myself getting wet.
I doubled my efforts, tightening my grip and taking him deeper into my mouth. My nose brushed against the damp curls at his base, just long enough to hear the grunted “Fuck” fall from Jackson’s lips before I pulled back. My breath was ragged, and my lips were slick with spit, but I’d never felt more powerful, more in control.
“I fucking love your mouth,” he said, and I knew he felt me smile around his cock. I moaned around him as I picked up the pace, loving the way he responded with a loud moan and a hitch of his hips.
His hand cradled my head, not grabbing, just holding there, caressing. His thighs trembled, a series of continual flexes that told me he was getting close.
And I loved how vocal he was about what he liked. Groans, grunts, curses … the lot.
The way his head fell back in a mix of pleasure and disbelief filled me with a unique kind of pride. Not to mention how fucking hot it was. I just knew I’d be replaying this moment in my fantasies later.
I lost myself to the pleasure of him. The heat against my tongue. The smell of sweat and sex. The wet sound as I pulled off away, panting against his thigh. The tender feel of his throbbing vein beneath my lips as I trailed kisses along it. The pure euphoria and delight when I brought my lips to his balls, discovering how much he enjoyed it.
From there, it was only a matter of time before he was coming in my mouth, and I lapped up what I could, wiping my mouth against his leg when it spilled from my lips.
Despite not finding my own release, I felt as boneless as he was. I crawled up his body and couldn’t help myself from kissing his cheek and whispering, “I’ve wanted to do that since last time.”
With the strength he had left, he crushed our lips together.
I laid down beside him, curled into his side, and watched happily as he came down from his post-BJ high, harboring every contented sigh and locking it away in my mind for safekeeping.
I rested my chin on his chest, more than a little proud of myself at how glassy his eyes were with the bliss of the orgasm. I did that.
My confidence was so high, I teased. “I’ll just give you a moment before the next round.”
His chuckle was hardly more than a breath as his hands explored my body. I shuffled off my underwear, so we were both naked.
“I’m really glad we bumped into each other again,” I said.
“Yeah, about that. It may not have been by accident.” Jackson trailed a finger along my spine, and goosebumps broke out.
“I had a sneaking feeling that was the case. Tiff looked far too pleased with herself.”
“Are you mad?”
I considered the question, putting aside my joy at seeing Jackson again and thinking over what they must have orchestrated to set us up again. “No, I’m not mad.”
But maybe next time… The words sat on my tongue, and I paused, wondering if I should say them. Would he even want there to be a next time?
“I’m glad I got to see you again,” I said instead, nervously repeating my earlier sentiment.
“Me, too. I’d like to keep seeing you. On purpose, this time.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “And maybe without Tiff there.”
“I’d really like that.” His fingers brushed my cheek, and I leaned into the touch before turning my head to kiss his palm. “Actually, I’m surprised Tiffany didn’t just give you my number.”
He groaned in frustration as he pulled me up, meeting my lips halfway and slotting his leg between mine so that we were tangled together more deeply. When I finally came up for air, I rested my hands on his chest.
