Before I can respond, he's kissing me—not a gentle good morning kiss, but deep and demanding, his tongue pushing intomy mouth like he owns it. Like he owns me. And my body responds instantly, melting against him despite the protests of my rational mind.
His hand tangles in my hair, guiding my head down his body. "I want your mouth on me."
I've done this before—well, attempted it at least, with college boyfriends who were as clueless as I was. But I've never done it with someone like Alexander, someone who knows exactly what he wants and exactly how to ask for it.
"I'm not... I don't have much experience with this," I confess, suddenly shy despite everything we did last night.
His eyes darken. "I'll teach you."
He positions himself against the headboard, the sheet falling away to reveal his erection, already hard and intimidating in the morning light. I move between his spread legs, uncertain where to begin.
"First, just look at my cock," he instructs, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that seems to bypass my brain and speak directly to the heat building between my legs. "Take your time. Get comfortable."
I study him, taking in the size and shape, the way the head is slightly darker than the shaft, the vein running along the underside.
"Now touch me. Wrap your hand around the base."
I do as he says, my fingers barely meeting around his girth. He feels like steel, hot and pulsing against my palm.
"Good girl," he praises, and something warm blooms in my chest at his approval. "Now lick up my shaft. Slowly."
I lean down, my hair falling around my face as I drag my tongue from base to tip in one long, exploratory stroke. He tastes slightly salty.
"Again," he commands. "This time, swirl your tongue around the head when you reach the top."
I comply, gaining confidence with each pass of my tongue. His breathing changes, growing heavier, and I feel a surge of power knowing I'm affecting him this way.
"Now take me in your mouth. Just the head at first."
I part my lips, taking him in, feeling the smooth skin against my tongue. His hand comes to rest on the back of my head, not pushing, just guiding.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Use your hand on what doesn't fit in your mouth. Work them together."
I follow his instructions, finding a rhythm that has him groaning softly. His praise washes over me—"Perfect," "Just like that," "Such a good girl"—each word making me want to please him more.
"Deeper now," he urges, his hand applying gentle pressure to the back of my head. "Relax your throat."
I try, taking him further into my mouth, fighting against my gag reflex. Tears spring to my eyes when he hits the back of my throat, but the sound he makes—a low, guttural groan—makes it worth it.
"Look at me," he commands.
I raise my eyes to meet his without stopping the movement of my mouth and hand. The naked desire on his face sends a bolt of heat straight to my core.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Keep your eyes on me like that."
His hips begin to move slightly, controlled thrusts into my mouth that make me feel used in the most delicious way. I moan around him, and the vibration makes him curse again.
"I'm close," he warns.
I desperately want to feel him come apart because of me. I redouble my efforts, moving faster, taking him deeper.
When he comes, it's with a strangled version of my name and his hand fisting in my hair. I swallow reflexively, surprised by the bitter taste but determined not to show it.
"Christ," he mutters, pulling me up his body for a bruising kiss. "You're a fast learner."
I smile against his mouth, feeling a strange mix of pride and satisfaction. "I had a good teacher."
He laughs, a sound I've rarely heard from him, and pulls me against his chest. "We have time for a shower before your meeting."
