His hands press into my thighs, holding me in place as he lowers his mouth to my pussy.
“Cooper,” I breathe, the sound barely there.
He hums softly, and I tilt my head back, getting lost in the way his tongue flicks against my clit.
He doesn’t rush. If anything, he slows down, taking his time until I’m left writhing and breathless above him.
His hands grip my thighs, and he lets out a low sound against me. I blink my eyes open, meeting his gaze from where he’s kneeling in front of me.
Even then, he doesn’t slow. It feels like he’s testing me, seeing how far he can push before I come undone.
I’m already there. My body tightens, a shaky breath slipping past my lips as I hover right on the edge.
And then he pulls back.
I exhale his name again, softer this time, the sound breaking like a quiet protest. My head drops forward, ready to beg him not to stop.
He doesn’t move right away. He just looks up at me.
He has no idea what he does to me, and that look in his eyes pushes me over the edge.
I shift against him, nudging his shoulder just enough to make space as I slide off the workbench. My jeans are still tangled around my ankles until I kick free of them, dropping to my knees in front of him without thinking.
He just stares at me. I grin, liking the way I caught him off guard.
His jaw tightens, his breath uneven as he looks down at me.
“Don’t,” I whisper, my hands already on him. “I don’t want you to stop me.”
I reach for his zipper, rougher than he was, and I pull it down.
“Brinley…” My name comes out like a warning, like it’s taking everything in him to hold onto control.
I shake my head slightly, not looking up at him. I want to see him unravel the way I do with him.
My fingers tighten around him, and I wrap my lips around the blunt head of his dick. It’s red and leaking precum. He lets out a low growl when I swipe it with my tongue, his hand gripping the back of my neck.
“Fuck, yes,” he mutters, voice rough.
I drag my tongue along the vein beneath his cock, stopping to kiss beneath the head and trying not to grin when he clenches his jaw.
I take my time, dragging it out, watching the way his jaw tightens, the way he fights to stay in control.
He’s barely holding it together, and I love that I’m the reason.
“My god, it’s like you were made for me,” he mutters, the words slipping out under his breath. “Your mouth feels so good. You look pretty and so perfect, taking my dick in your mouth. Your mouth feels incredible.”
My eyes grow heavy at his words and the sound of his voice. He doesn’t look away, and neither do I.
He reaches between us and grips the base of his dick, like he’s trying to hold himself back. I ease back long enough to catch my breath before he’s pulling me up again.
“Turn around,” he says. I follow, bracing my hands against the edge of the workbench.
I glance over my shoulder, catching him fumbling with his wallet before quickly rolling on a condom. When he notices me watching, he smirks.
“Do you see what you do to me?” he murmurs.
His hand finds my hip as he steps in close, leaning in to press a quick kiss to my lips before positioning himself at my entrance. I arch back instinctively, searching for him.
