Opening my lips wider, I take more of Bronte’s cock and feel ittwitch needily. The tension on my hair grows more taut as I run the flatness of my tongue down his shaft.
Bobbing my head around him, I hear the faint breaks of his breathing above me and over Home Alone, still playing softly on the TV. Trying to relax and give this man something to remember me by is hard when he’s thicker than what I’m used to, and blowjobs weren’t daily handouts when it came to Bobby because he was never around.
However, I find myself wanting to really make a mark here. Christmases for him have always been memories with me, and I wish I had them when I knew for certain it was him.
I feel his hips gently begin to thrust in my mouth, hinting that he needs more.
Taking him deeper, I relax my jaw, flick my eyes up at him, and then he loses control.
Carnal lust gleams in those soft moss eyes as he peers down at me. His fingertips cup the back of my head as he propels his cock deeper into my mouth, allowing himself a bit more and forcing me to take it all.
But, soon, those thrusts become faster and deeper. My eyes glisten with tears, and that sends him over another edge.
With one hand gripping my hand, the other runs a tender thumb down my cheek, brushing away one tear from my face, and he seems to take pleasure in that.
He growls, running his digits underneath my jaw and stroking the skin there. His cock enters my mouth deeper, hitting the back of my throat and causing me to gag.
Bronte lets up for a second, giving me some reprieve before he’s close to doing it again.
Then he does.
When I heave again, Bronte’s in utter animal mode. He fucks my mouth like he’s never going to get the opportunity again, and my lower jaw begins to ache, alluding to how out of shape I am withgiving head.
However, I stay put, receiving each one of his plunges like the champ I am. Every time he deep throats me, I either gag or am able to hold it together.
And that only seems to turn Bronte on more.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he grinds out, tenderly stroking my jaw. “I knew it’d be like this. You’re fuckin’ perfect, Daydream.”
I hum in pleasure at his words. My pussy is clenching at how turned on he is. How every skewed and relieved expression on his face makes my hips rock a little for some let-up on how my body starts to build up with sexual tension.
Wrapping my lips tighter around Bronte’s shaft, he thrusts deep into my throat, causing me to recoil before his cock disappears altogether.
I’m gathered up and pulled into his body before I’m in the air, thighs wrapped tightly around his waist.
His mouth is on mine before I can manage another thought. Tongue slipping past my lips as he leads us both somewhere in the suite.
I breathe him in naturally, smelling sandalwood and cinnamon off his skin while wrapping my arms tighter around his body.
His hands knead my ass as he continues to carry me.
This infused connection is something I can’t ignore and, in the moment, don’t want to.
Especially when I’m tossed suddenly, my butt and back bouncing off the mattress as Bronte towers over me, already starting to remove his pants.
“Pull your leggings over your ass,” he orders tersely, ripping his belt from the loops of his dress slacks and sending my pulse racing through my veins. “Then turn around and bend over for me, Daydream. Remember the safe word. Because I’m going to fuck you into the next hour, the next day, and the next holiday.”
Chapter 23
Bronte
Ithink I’ve finally broken through in Meirna’s mind when it comes to anything physical between us.
She also broke mine when she implied that she remembered my wanting her to suck my cock and took the initiative to do it.
And it was hell.
Every muscle in me wanted to fuck her pretty mouth and come down her throat, but it’s those damn amber-gold eyes that begged to fill her up with my cum instead.
