He stops when I skim my fingers over his erection through his jeans, and he throws his head back. “God.” It comes out as a moan that makes my entire body want to shiver.
I try to wrap my hand around it as best as I can and give it a gentle squeeze. He squirms as he tries to smother his grunt. “I know you want me to suck you off, Carter. So staystill”—I grip his hips, hard enough to pinch—“and begood, or I’ll have to punish you.”
I’m throwing his dirty talk right back at him, and he’s loving it. He inhales in a grunt as his pupils dilate so much it looks like his eyes are simply rings of gold around fathomless black holes. His breath is already so ragged. “How—how would you punish me?”
I raise an eyebrow and flip my hair back. “I wouldn’t let you come.”
“You w—” I begin to unbutton his jeans and his voice is completely gone, he is so intent on watching this, like he wants to memorize every moment and won’t let anything distract him, not even his own words.
I reach in his boxers and pull him out, all thick and hot and so hard, this must honestly be painful for him. He hisses through his teeth and drops his head back again, shifting his hips.
“I said,stop moving.” I make my tone strict, like how I’d imagine a woman who was super confident at this would be. “Or I’ll lick you”—I bend down and drag my tongue from the base to his tip—“suck you”—I put it all in my mouth, practically, but not quite, down my throat, and tighten around him, releasing him with a wet pop—“and then leave you here in agony.”
He is trying so hard not to move, he’s already got sweatbeading up on his forehead. “I’m not moving, I’m not moving.” He nearly whispers it, his fists clenched at his sides.
It’s such a turn-on, being this much in control of his body and his pleasure. Making it into a game for the both of us, a game that feels safe and sexy at the same time, something I had never experienced before Carter went down on me last night.
I try my hardest to make it as good for him as possible. I bob my head over him, getting sloppy until he’s moaning loud, and then I focus on the most sensitive spot on the underside of his tip until he’s begging me to…I’m not sure what. “Please, Teal,” he keeps saying. “I’m going to come too fast.” It sounds like he doesn’t want to come fast, but at the same time, he’s begun to lift his hips in a ridiculously hot rhythm, and I’m not sure he’s even aware of it.
I release him and shove his pants down. “Spread your legs.”
He obeys without question, without hesitation, his erection looking almost angry with its reddened tip. “You were moving,” I say accusingly. “You were trying to fuck my mouth!”
“I’m sorry!” he says. “I didn’t— I couldn’t—”
“So now I get to put my finger wherever I want.” I point straight up and wiggle, and unfathomably, the memory of Sky miming getting fingered at the restaurant, using all five fingers, comes to me and I have to suppress the urge to laugh.
I know, I know, I just said if he disobeyed I wouldn’t let him come. But I think he and I and all the old gods all know I couldn’t do that to Carter. And it’s also for my own selfish purposes—I’ve never seen him come before. I’ve never made him come before. And I need to do it, to wring it out of him, like I need my next breath.
“You’re going to—” His eyes are wide. “I’ve never—”
“Can I? Put it anywhere I want?” This isn’t part of the game,for me to ask, rather than demand, but obviously I need his consent to do this. I’ve never touched a guy there before—but I’ve always wanted to. I’ve read how wild it makes them, how good it feels. And right now, the way he’s looking at me like I’m some kind of sex goddess who’s just dropped out of the sky, I want to prove it to him. I want to be the best he’s ever had, even if this is all he will allow me of him.
He nods. “You can do anything to me. You know that.”
Anything but intercourse. Anything but making out. Anything but me telling him how wet he always makes me.
Anything but allowing me in his heart, because he doesn’t want me like that.
I shove these thoughts away by returning my mouth to his cock while sliding my hands between and under his legs. It takes a little searching, but I find what I’m looking for, and I don’t give myself time to stress about it—I do exactly what I’ve read in all the magazines, putting pressure at what I hope is the exact right spot.
I think itisthe exact right spot, because he gasps, “Teal,” and instantly comes. “Fuck,” he chants over and over, lifting his hips again, in the exact way I’d just scolded him about.
When it’s done, and I’ve swallowed and pulled my hand back from him, he cups my face like I am a precious jewel he discovered completely unexpectedly and he’s too scared to be anything but tender and gentle with me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it in your mouth…”
“It’s okay. I wanted it.”
He relaxes back, letting his head fall on the sofa. “Christ. Teal. Jesus. Christ.”
I laugh because it sounds like it was as good for him as I’d intended. “You liked it?”
He laughs now, his voice husky and deep. “What, did it seem like I would have any complaints? I think you just sucked my soul out of my body. Jesus.”
I smile and stand. “Let me clean up and get our food ready.”
“I should do that. You need to be off your feet.” But he doesn’t make a move to get up, his breath still recovering. I think his entire being is still recovering.
“I’m fine to heat up the food. You can get the dishes after.” I can’t help the grin on my face any more than the balmiest, clearest sky outside, like it hadn’t rained at all today, the first stars beginning to show like pinpricks through the deepest indigo-painted sky.
