“Fuck... it feels so good,” he rasps, voice low and thick. “Shit, I can’t—”
I glide my hand over him, up and down, teasing every ridge, every vein.
He groans again, low and startled, hips pressing into me, giving me every bit of him.
My palm slides along his length, tracing the thick vein that runs beneath, circling the sensitive tip.
His breath hitches, fingers tightening into my hair and scalp.
I let my thumb graze him, teasing. Every shudder beneath my touch makes my own ache flare hotter.
He shifts against me again, cock grinding, rubbing over my palm, skin sliding against skin.
I pull the denim down over his ass, hands squeezing his bare ass cheeks.
He growls.
His hands find my back, trying to pull me closer. But I kiss his stomach, fingers dragging over the waistband as I ease down the jeans.
I get on my knees.
“Shay—”
I look up at him. “Yes?”
The darkened look he gives me makes my stomach coil.
“I’m taking it slow,” I say when he says nothing. “Tasting every last inch of you.”
The way his eyes darken and his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.
Hard.
I don’t give him what he wants. Not right away.
I press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his thigh, grazing the tender skin, making him hiss.
Then I touch him.
His abs tighten as I wrap my hand around the base. My thumb brushes over the thick vein that runs along the underside.
His hips lift just a fraction.
I smirk, biting my lower lip as I lean in, breath ghosting over the sensitive head.
His cock jerks in my grip.
“Good boy.”
“Tease,” he growls, his fingers threading into my hair.
He’s not quite guiding me yet, but the threat of control is there.
I laugh, low and throaty.
My lips brush the tip, teasing, coaxing, licking, and flicking just right.
He curses, deep, fingers tangling in my scalp, pulling lightly at the roots.
