I drag my tongue up the length of him. Base to tip. I swirl around the crown before pulling back.
His hips jerk up, a desperate, wordless sound tearing from his throat.
I do it again.
And again.
I love this. Reducing him to raw, panting need with just my mouth.
His breath comes in sharp, uneven bursts. His fingers tangle in my hair, testing but not dominating, holding back just enough.
I part my lips, taking the head between them. Tongue presses flat against the underside.
His taste floods my senses—rich, male, heady.
I moan around him, muffled and needy.
His fingers tighten—not quite pulling, just demanding presence.
I obey.
I sink slower, tasting, savoring, then pick up pace.
My hand pumps the base in time with my mouth.
His breaths come sharp and uneven, his hips lifting to chase my mouth when I pull back.
“Shit, baby—” His voice strains, fingers gripping my hair as he fucks up into my mouth.
I pull back just enough to make him hiss, teasing the tip, diving down again.
Swallowing, sucking, every groan, every ragged breath, driving me further.
“I’m going to come—” He pulls my head away and forces me to look at him. “I’m not ready yet.”
I lick my lips.
“Damn it, woman.” He picks me up, kisses me hard, then tosses me on the mattress.
Chapter Seventeen
CASH
ISTEP BACK for the briefest second.
