“Stop apologizing and bring those lips back here,” he mumbles, pulling me closer. He squeezes my ass as I lean in, and he angles his head, sweeping his tongue into my mouth with teasing strokes.
He groans.
I breathe harder.
I haven’t forgotten how good he made me feel the last time we were on his couch. I haven’t stopped wanting to return the favor either. And this time, I really hope he’ll trust me—and himself—enough to let me. Moving my hand between us, I find his sweats and pull at the waistband.
“Blue ...” he warns gruffly against my lips.
“Baby steps. Okay?” Tearing my mouth from his, I lean into his ear and whisper, “Breathe.”
He swallows, body tensing.
My heart races as I move my lips down his neck, tasting and exploring everything Joshua Hunt. My fingers shake, a mix of apprehension and excitement. I don’t want him to turn me away again. When I slip my hand in his pants, a rough sound climbs up his throat and vibrates against my tongue. My mouth freezes the instant I feel him.Reallyfeel him. He’s so hard. So smooth. And so much ... more ... than I expected. My nerves mounting, I tentatively wrap my fingers around as much of him as I can, and his head falls back against the couch.
“Shit,” he whispers.
I start to glide my hand up and down until wetness oozes from his tip, and I use my thumb to rub it around. Warmth floods between my thighs.
“Like this?” I ask, looking at him. A quiver makes my voice unsteady, revealing my nerves. I want him to be honest, but what if I’m not doing it right?
“That’s ... that’s good, Blue,” he says between broken breaths, and I relax a little, trying to focus on the experience more than the first-time jitters. I want to make it good for him.
When he stretches out his legs, I take advantage of the movement and slide off his lap, dropping to my knees between them. His head snaps up. He tracks me as I wrap both hands around him. Anticipation flips my stomach so sharply I’m sure no butterflies could survive it. Then I swipe my tongue along his erection, working my way from the base to the tip.
He lets out a low hiss.
I glance up, and my heart races at the sudden possessiveness darkening his expression. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes arestarving.
My pulse echoes in my ears. I flick my tongue across his length again, then take him in my mouth and suck. I’m clumsy and can’t take much at first, but goose bumps race up my arms when his hands grip the edge of the couch as though he needs to be grounded.
“Again,” he instructs huskily.
I do it again, my head bobbing up and down as I try to take in more, then his hand is in my hair and he’s muttering through clenched teeth, “Fuck, Blue ...”
He’s warm and tastes salty. I fumble with my hands, trying to see what else he likes. I don’t think I’m doing that great, and my inexperience is showing, but the deep noises rumbling through his chest spike my confidence.
He rasps, “Look at me,” and tugs on my hair. “Please.”
My thighs squeeze together. I look up, continuing to suck, and,okay, that’s harder to do than it sounds. I break eye contact pretty quickly.
He doesn’t seem to mind though because he moves against my mouth and groans, “Shit, I’m close.”
A moment later, he grinds out for me to back up, but the tight hold he still has on my hair tells me he wants anything but that. I keep my lips locked around him as he comes hard, cursing my name and shuddering against me. I swallow everything he gives me, familiarizing myself with his taste. Mesmerized by the way his body moves and trembles.
When his hold eventually loosens and he lets out an uneven breath, I slowly pull back and find his gaze.
He’s breathing heavy, and my pulse skips when I find the hunger still flickering in his eyes. It’s a dark spark, dancing andliving, and I almost think it burns brighter than before.
He slides his scorching gaze along my body, making my spine tingle, then groans, “Fuck ...” and pulls me gently off the floor and onto his lap.
When I start to straddle him again, a low growl works up his throat, and he shifts me so I’m sideways instead.
“Fuck,” he says again, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“What is it?” My brows knit, and a weight sinks to the pit of my stomach. Maybe I read him wrong, and it wasn’t as good for him as I thought. “Was it not good enough?”
“What?” His eyes slowly start to focus, like he’s finally seeing me after being locked in the dark. “Jesus, no,” he mutters. “You were fucking perfect.” But it sounds more like a complaint than a compliment. He grips my waist, pulling me closer, and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. “So damn perfect,” he repeats quietly.
