He pulls back.
“I’m about to start humping the bed. Fuck me.”
His gaze flicks up. Pupils dilated, his irises are a swirl of emotion. This encounter feels more like an experience. I can come quick with oral, but this isn’t that. Maybe this Big Dick Levi is right about his skills.
“I’d like to see if the nickname holds up,” I breathe, staring at the large tent in his jeans. “Plus, you look like you could use a little more room for him.”
Levi smirks, then rises to his knees. He lifts his shirt, giving me a shot of his tight abdomen, and I squeeze my legs together. Next, he unbuttons his pants like he’s Magic Mike in the flesh, every action deliberate and meant to get my blood flowing.
He teases his boxers down the head of his cock, leaving just the silk tip visible before he reaches inside, adjusts, strokes his length. Then teases again. I’ve never been to a male show, but this is making me want to. You can’t tell me there’s hotter guys than Levi Soucy there, though.
My breath hitches as he lowers his boxers another inch. Thick veins, smooth skin. My next breath of air catches?—
No. No, no?—
I cough. The sound wretches from me like I’ve smoked three packs a day since I was nine. I reach over on the nightstand and grab a tissue, holding it to my mouth, squeezing my eyes closed. This is about as unsexy as it gets. Levi is giving me a strip tease, and I’m coughing up char.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I’m still coughing, so I raise my pointer finger and hope beyond hope that I settle soon and that the mood will still be there when I do.
Once it passes and I’m able to breathe regularly again, I roll onto my back. Levi is on me in a second, his arms caging me to the mattress. “Are you okay?”
The concern etched in his eyes makes me feel a little better. “I’m fine,” I croak. “Sorry, the coughing fits come out of nowhere sometimes.”
He brings his fingers up, catching the tears on my cheeks and flicking them away. His open jeans rub against my stomach.
I grip them. “It’s no big deal.”
“You know what is a big deal?” he asks, levity in his voice, and I just know something smartass and sexual is about to come out of his mouth.
He lifts to his knees again, his boxers still where I remember them as he reaches inside, giving himself a nice, slow tug.
Levi teases me some more, stroking himself under his boxers, revealing his cock inches at a time. When he finally finishes, I’m shocked. He kept going and going.
Clearly, he’s proud of his cock. Honestly, I am, too. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I say, “No piercings? I would’ve sworn you were the type to have piercings.”
He stops mid-stroke. “You like piercings?”
“I’ve actually never felt one before,” I admit.
His shoulders sag in relief, the first sign of whatever the opposite is of extreme cockiness. It doesn’t last long, though. He stays on his knees, stroking his dick slowly while gazing at me. It spurs me to move, dragging my hands up my thighs, around my pussy, then across my rib cage to my breasts.
He likes that. Most guys do.
I circle my nipples until they’re nice and hard again. It’s getting warm in this robe, but there’s no way I’m taking it off. If the coughing was unsexy, my scars will be even more so. Like this, I can still pretend.
Levi lowers again, pushing his jeans and boxers off. “Don’t blame me if I soil these sheets.”
He starts where he left off. Licking, sucking. He’s like a food critic, testing, tasting, figuring out how he’s going to write his review. It’s an otherworldly experience. I’ve been with guys who were good at it, but none who took their time and enjoyed it. Through it all, I watch him work me up. Lids fluttering, his tongue darting out to savor me. His hips grinding into the bed.
My body starts to shake. All the adrenaline and pleasure catching up to me. I pray I don’t get into another coughing fit as my breaths come quicker, panting. “Levi…”
“Fuck. I like it when you say my name.”
The torturously slow movements keep me on the precipice, bring new definition to the wordedging. I’m in an almost otherworldly state, living for his next touch, heightened in every way, so turned on I don’t know what to do with myself. My hands fist the sheets, then travel up my ribs, then press firmly into the mattress, giving me leverage so I can squirm against him.
“Just take it,” he breathes.
