But then, instead of dimming like they did last time, his eyes blazed an even brighter gold.
Still, his next words were a mini-lecture. 'You understand, you have agency here, Bell. If you start and then need to stop, that's not merely acceptable—it's your right. This isn't a test. There is no such thing as failure in this context.'"
Funny he should say that because Ididfeel like I’d just passed an entrance exam—the same one I’d failed last time when he saw I was still too messed up to follow through on my offer of oral reciprocation.
“I understand,” I answered, with every intention of not failing the final. “But I want to try.”
I held his gaze, letting him feel my calm, that my offer was being made with curiosity and desire. Not fear or obligation. “Can I try?”
Finally, the smile returned to Zion’s face. “Yes. Ursa, yes.”
Yes…
My heart thrummed, and I waited for him to remove his hand from my shoulder and take himself out.
But he kept his knuckles where they were while regarding me with a soft gaze.
“You’re aware it belongs to you, hmm? Anytime you wish to have it,” he told me. “If you wish to have it now, take it out.”
It.
Zion rarely used vague pronouns, but I understood what he was referring to… that he was gifting me control of that part of him.
Suddenly, this felt like new territory.
Dennis would never have let me lead. Never acted like my mouth was a privilege, or that he wasn’t allowed to shove his dick into it whenever he wanted.
But Zion…
Zion wasn’t Dennis. None of them were anything like him.
That new certainty swept through me like a strong breeze, clearing my path forward of dirt and detritus as I reached underneath the band of Zion’s joggers and took his dick into my hand.
It was so long. I imagined taking him inside like I had Ravik. Of it hitting places only he could reach.
“Bell…” Zion’s nostrils flared. His dick grew even harder in my hands, with a drop of pre-cum forming at the tip.
“Yes?” I asked, sliding my tongue out to slowly swipe the little bit of the salty liquid away.
Zion didn’t answer. Just watched with glowing eyes as I licked up the underside of his long shaft. Slowly, deliberately, while holding his golden gaze.
Then I did it again before tilting it down to oh-so-slowly swirl my tongue beneath his hood, around the sensitive head.
“Bell…” he growled after a sharp inhale.
“Yes?” I asked again. I gave his shaft another slow, careful lick, like I was savoring a very long popsicle. “Are you trying to tell me what to do with my dick?”
He released a shuddering breath. “No, I’m warning you that you’re too enchanting. If you continue playing with me in this manner, there is a great likelihood I will not make it to the part where you put it in your?—”
Before he could finish, I swallowed him down with a huge suck that brought him all the way to the back of my throat.
He did not taste like raspberry jam. But I liked it, the clean smell of him in my nose, the sharp breaths he made every time I gave his length another pulling suck. How he stayed still, flexing his hands at the side of my face, but never grabbing onto the back of my head to violently thrust himself in my mouth.
The way it stayed quiet in my mind as I did whatever I wanted to my dick.
Because he wasn’t Dennis. He was Zion, my flirtatious friend. And it felt so good to give him the same kind of pleasure he’d given me.
“Bell, Bell, sweetheart—” His voice sounded pained, right before his salty load spilled down the throat I was happily holding open for him.
