Darcy hadn’t thought he was, but she hummed in appreciation of that promise.
“And this feels fantastic,” he quickly added, tone apologetic.
Darcy didn’t thinkapologeticwas how Teagan probably sounded when he was having a really good time, so she took that as her cue to try to get fancy in terms of what she was doing with her tongue and hands. Break out all the stops. She was rewarded with a slightly shocked inhale of breath from above her, but no further developments.
Her jaw was starting to ache. She thought she was covert about the way she rubbed a palm against it, but Teagan caught her.
“Stop. Don’t hurt yourself,” Teagan said glumly, hand reaching out to cup her face. “You can just—call it. No heroic efforts needed.”
“What if you stood up?” she asked. “Or I bent over from the side—”
He shook his head. “No, no, this isn’t your fault.” His abruptly tragic expression said he was dramatically overestimating the portion of Darcy’s self-worth tied up in her cock-sucking abilities.
“No worries,” Darcy said. “I know I’m awesome at this. Pretty sure I could turn pro if I didn’t have this sweet sober companion gig going already.”
That got a real laugh out of him, but he sat up more, hands reaching for his pants.
Darcy protectively wrapped two hands around the base of his cock to halt him.
“Have you really not been able to come at all for the last month?” she asked him with sincere concern. She would have called a doctor or something, if that had been her.
Teagan’s flaming cheeks said that he would prefer not to discuss it, but he reluctantly said, “Pretty much. I mean, once in the shower, but it took so long that afterward I just gave up.”
She leaned in and smirked at him, mind readily giving her the image. “Were you thinking about me?”
It was a tease, just a chance to let him use a good line, but if anything he turned redder, lips tightening over white teeth.
“I was, yeah,” he admitted.
Darcy pulled her hand down his shaft, tightened it, and stroked back the other direction.
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
He licked his lips, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. But she stroked him again, and he bit out like a guilty admission, “You. This. You, on your knees. Your mouth on my cock.”
Darcy blinked up at him in startled gratification, though that didn’t give her much different she could do. But maybe if—
She stood up. “Come on,” she said again, grabbing him by the arm.
There was a big bathroom attached to her room, with a walk-in shower. Plenty of room for two.
“Where are we going?”
“The shower,” she said, trying to convey happy determination. She could recreate those conditions in captivity, no problem.
Teagan made one more abortive grab for his clothes, but she muscled him away from them.
“Darcy, really, it’s okay—”
“No reason not to use the equipment you’ve been supplied,” Darcy said, hauling him upright.
He made a few more halfhearted protests as she hustled him into the bathroom and turned on the hot water.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said unnecessarily as they waited for it to steam up the bathroom. Darcy tested the water with one foot but kept both hands on Teagan’s body to keep him from fleeing. “This is... probably the most awkward situation of my entire life.”
Darcy looked at him skeptically, because in her experience, sex often involved someone’s ribs getting bumped by the gearshift or her roommate coming home too early or the wall-to-wall carpet giving her rug burn in a sensitive spot.
“No one gets laid gracefully. Haven’t you ever watched a nature documentary? There are always weird noises and lots of flapping.”
