“Breathe,” he murmurs.
Against my lips.
Against my jaw.
Into the hollow of my throat as he kisses me there so fucking lightly my dick jumps a mile.
“I’m breathing,” I fib through my clenched teeth.
“Then lie down with me.”
On his bed. Naked.
I do it, and it’s not that different to his couch downstairs. Same heat and wild pull between us. But up here, everything but him feels smaller. Like he’s filling more space than he did before,and that’s what tugs me a step further down a path I’ve been so nonsensically afraid of.
Galen eases me onto my back, his weight pressing along mine, cementing the warmth and arousal that builds and builds with every rough kiss until he whispers magic and wondrous words against my lips. “What do you want?”
My lungs seize as his mouth hovers over mine, burning me alive as I consider a question I’m not used to being asked. Not like this—with a man’s hand at my throat, as if he’ll choke an answer out of me if I don’t find one for myself.
He won’t.
I know he won’t.
I know he’llwait, because he always waits, so patient and kind it wrecks me.
But he doesn’t need to be patient tonight.
I snatch a breath and the truth spills out of me before I can swallow it down, shifting something fundamental inside me as I say words I’ve never uttered aloud before. “I want to blow you.”
The words land heady and loaded, and the devil inside has Charmaine laughing in my face all over again. But Galen cuts her off with a startled laugh, that grin curving slow and filthy on his face, hooded eyes darkening with heat.
“Stop the lights, you’re going to kill me, aren’t ya?”
“Not on purpose.”
He laughs again and the room spins as he rolls us, pulling me over him, making space for me between his legs as I brace a hand either side of his head and stare down at him like I’ve never seen him before.
“I might be really bad at it.”
Galen tilts his head, green eyes sparkling with kind and dirty amusement. “Or you might be really fecking good. I’m the one dicing with death here. Now get down there so we can find out.”
The order is playful, but I like it. And I like the pressure of his hand on my head even more as I descend the bed and bring myself face-to-face with his thick and flushed cock.
I swallow hard.
Hesitating.
But it isn’t real. My brain is screaming that I need a fucking moment, but the rest of me doesn’t get the memo. I reach for Galen, my body moving before my gnarly thoughts catch up. I wrap my hand around the base of him and his sharp inhale carries a reverence that almost undoes me.
My lips part, tongue snaking out to wet them. Then I lean in and take him in my mouth, and it’s like I’ve plugged my soul into a live socket.
I’m falling. I’m flying. He tastes so fucking good. And his stuttered groan?
I’ll hear it until the day I die.
“Fuck, Sab.” Galen shifts his hand to cradle the back of my head, his fingers sifting through my hair. “That death by blowjob theory’s coming in hard—fuck.”
I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, flicking my tongue where I know he’s most reactive, heat building in my own veins at every gravelled word of praise he sends my way. Guided by instinct. Fuelled by the ragged sounds Galen makes as I work him with my mouth, grazing my teeth along the sensitive underside of his dick.
