“What’re you doin’, babe?” he asks.
“Waiting for you.”
My words come out all breathy, and I hope they are a little sexy, too. He shakes his head once, and I wonder if he can tell just how nervous I am about this. I feel very out of my element right now.
I watch as he takes his cut off, folding it and placing it on the dresser. He reaches behind him to tug off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. I don’t check where it lands, because I don’t care. He’s shirtless, and that is the only thing I can somewhat focus on. His abs, his chest… hisarms… all of it.
Yum.
Shifting my body around, I rise to my knees, giving up on the attempt to be sexy. I don’t give a shit about that, not when he’s this close. Once I’m on my knees, I start to reach out for him, but he holds up his hand, stopping me.
My heart also stops for a moment, squeezing inside my chest, my breathing coming out in short pants as I attempt to keep from panicking. I’m on the verge and feeling like a whole idiot when that secret smile, his smirk, appears.
It’s then that I realize he wants to play a game.
“Hands and knees. Crawl to me,” Goose rasps.
A shiver of desire slides up my spine.
Yes. Please.
Since I’m already on my knees, I bend at the waist and place my hands on the mattress. Tilting my head back slightly, I look up into his eyes as I slowly crawl toward him. My breasts sway as I do. I’m not sure if it’s sexy, but I think I’m a little too drunk to care at this point, and way too horny.
When I’m at the edge of the bed, Goose has unbuttoned and pulled down his pants just far enough for his cock to jut out. He cups my cheek. I feel his thumb slide across the apple of my cheek, and then he leans forward, dipping slightly before his mouth touches mine.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss. Instead, he speaks, his lips moving against mine when he does. “Be my good girl and suck my cock.”
My entire body trembles. I want that. To be his good girl, to suck his cock. I can practically taste him. He slides his hand to the back of my head, his fingers curling and twisting into the strands. His grip is firm, but he doesn’t guide me. He lets me explore.
Flattening my tongue, I glide it along the underside of his length, then swirl the head, tasting him. Closing my eyes, I open my mouth and take him inside me as deeply as I can. His fingers flex in my hair. He’s holding on to the control, but he’s close to snapping, and I decide to play my own game.
Saliva drips down my chin as I move my mouth back and forth. I kiss, suck, and lick every inch of his length. Wrapping my hand around the base, my fingers coated in saliva, I move it up and down in tandem with my mouth, and then it happens.
Snap.
The rubber band of control breaks, and he tugs my head forward, moving me along his length the way he wants. Looking up at him through my lashes, I whimper as he watches me. His jaw is clenched, his gaze focused on me and only me, on us.
It’s beautiful.
He flexes his hips, fucking my mouth. “You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” he asks, his voice coming out growly and raspy.
I do want to touch myself. My brows shift together, hopefully conveying the pleading I have going on inside my head at thethought of touching myself right now. I wasn’t thinking about it before he said something. But now it’s the only thing I can think about.
“Yeah, you do. Are you going to make yourself come while you suck my cock?” he asks.
His fingers flex again. He holds my hair tightly, my scalp burning slightly. He doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop fucking my mouth, and I moan around his length, my fingers itching to slip between my thighs.
“Go ahead, babe. I know you want to. Touch yourself for me.”
And I do just that. I slip one of my hands between my legs, and with the other, I reach out and wrap my fingers around the back of his thigh. He doesn’t stop his movements, his hips thrusting.
The moment my fingers touch my pussy, I whimper. I’m wet. I didn’t realize that this—him moving in and out of my mouth—was such a turn-on. And maybe it is, but I think what is turning me on the most is knowing that he’s enjoying himself so much. All I want to do is make him happy.
My hips buck beneath my fingertips. I’m only on my third stroke, and I’m about to come. I can’t believe it feels this good. I’ve never been able to get there with just my fingers before, and I’m already so damn close.
“Fuck,” Goose growls.
His fingers tighten in my hair. They grip me as he continues to move, his thrusts no longer even and rhythmic. They’re speeding up, and I love it. It only turns me on more. Groaning, I slide my eyes closed as he continues moving in and out of my mouth, and I continue playing with myself.
