He dipped his tongue into my slit and I was off like a rocket. I came so hard I saw stars, my vision whiting out.
Sebastian sucked and licked me through the aftershocks, until I was begging him to stop.
“No more. Too much.”
He sat back, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Then he was moving up my body to straddle my chest, his hands framing my face. He bent forward and kissed me deeply. I moaned into his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue.
When he broke away, he palmed his dick, letting out a low groan. He rubbed himself again over the fabric.
“Don’t you dare. That’s mine,” I bit out. If he made himself come, I was going to be livid.
“Is it?” he asked with a teasing lift of his eyebrow.
“Yes. Now give it to me.”
He tumbled off me, yanking his clothes off in a rush, then crawled back onto the bed, throwing a leg over my chest. He fisted himself, his free hand buried in my hair as he lined his dick up with my mouth.
I swirled my tongue around the tip, licking away a drop of pre-cum. Then, calling on every core exercise I’d ever done, I curled my abs forward and sank down, bobbing up and down over what I could reach with my arms straining behind me.
It wasn’t enough. It was barely anything.
I growled with frustration and popped off, leaning back against the headboard. “Fuck my face.”
“Why? You trying to make me come?”
“That’s the idea,” I said, my tone belligerent. “I want that cock.”
He lined up again, and the next time he pressed forward, I tried to swallow him down, but he kept his pace maddeningly slow. His movement shallow.
I growled again.
“Patience.” He traced my cheek with his thumb where his dick pressed against the inside of my mouth.
Fuck patience. I wanted him to lose his composure the way I’d lost mine. I wanted to watch him come undone because of me.
On his next thrust, he finally went deeper—as deep as I could take him—and fuckingsmiled. Then the bastard pushed in even more, stretching my throat around him.
My eyes watered as I blinked up at him, my lungs burning.
Sebastian pulled out abruptly, leaving me gasping. He stroked himself a few times while I caught my breath, then he drove back in, over and over and over again, his hips snapping.
I breathed through my nose and relaxed my throat. I let him use me, exactly like I’d asked him to. Saliva dribbled down my chin, and my jaw ached.
My dick was hard again.
Eventually, his breath caught, and his rhythm faltered. He was close.
I moaned, begging for his release.
His fingers tightened in my hair, and with a shout, he spilled down my throat, hot and thick. I swallowed, greedily, triumphant, every cell in my body singing with victory.
He collapsed forward, bracing himself on the headboard at my back. When he finally pulled out, a string of spit and cum dangled from my lips. I licked it away, shameless, and grinned up at him.
He leaned in and kissed me, messy and open-mouthed. “Good boy,” he whispered, untangling my wrists with trembling fingers.
When I was free, I pulled him down on top of me, threading my arms around his shoulders and back.
