I don’t deny it because my mouth speaks without my consent. Instead, I lift him with me, walking over to the couch. I rip his pants off, kneeling between his legs. “Sorry if I actually tore those.”
“No, you’re not.” Jamal leans forward and kisses me. It’s the first time I’ve tasted myself on someone else, and it’s addicting, knowing it’s him. I devour his mouth and chase his taste beneath mine. I’ve never understood the appeal of kissing until Jamal.
I want to live with my tongue in and on his body. His needy whimper spurs me on, and I kiss along his throat, sucking on his Adam’s apple. I wonder how much suction would be needed to leave a mark. I should attempt a less conspicuous place.
“Tell me what you like.” I remove his shirt and suck a nipple until it’s a hard pebble. This is my first good look at his cock, and it strains for attention, darker than his skin and glistening with precum. It grows larger under my gaze with a pronounced head and thick veins.
“Whatever you want. I trust you.” Jamal removes my shirt and settles back to stare. “I love looking at you.” The heat of my flush brings out his smile.
Jamal’s trust is a gift I didn’t know was possible until he said it. He’s the first person to tell me that. Sarah trusts me, but she’s never said it out loud.
Jamal’s cock is mouthwatering, and I lick my lips to make sure there’s no drool. I open wide and stuff him in my mouth. Its salty, musky taste gets me hard again. It seems even bigger in my mouth. If I try to deep-throat him, he’ll wreck my esophagus and puncture my lungs.
His guttural gasp is all the encouragement I need to destroy my throat to give him pleasure.
My name on his lips is reverent and worshipful. I cup his full balls, large and heavy in my hand and smoothly shaved. I’m unable to tear my mouth away from him. Touching him is amazing, but the sight of his body ramps up my desire.
I need to come again.
He digs his fingers into my scalp, and he pleads, “Can I fuck your mouth?”
A switch flips in me, and I drop my hands to my thighs and sit back on my heels.
His cum receptacle.
I can unpack why that’s such a turn-on later.
Jamal’s hands keep my head in place, and he snaps his hips, using me to find his release. Secrets spill from his lips. “Your mouth is my favorite place to be. You’re made to take me. Made for me.”
I get no warning before he floods my mouth, and I have the satisfaction of knowing I made him feel that way. Me. He lets go of my hair and curls his body over mine so that his arms drape down my back.
“Kitten,” he whispers, and I come again.
Chapter 25
Jamal King
The next morning, Theo’s in my closet touching all my suits. Saying he’s a tactile guy is an understatement. He loves my hair and can’t keep his hands out of it. I’m rethinking my relationship with it. I’ve never had someone openly adore my natural hair. My moms says she likes it, but she’s my mom“ Where do you buy your suits?” He’s running his hands over the geometric green and pink suit I wore to last year’s charity gala.
“That one’s a Trevor Fox; Liska’s fiancé custom-made it for me. I can hit him up, and he’ll make you one.”
Theo smooths down the suit, placing it back where it belongs.
“Are they all from Trevor?” His fingers caress the next suit.
“No, most are an up-and-coming Black designer that I love. Are you looking to add color to your suits?” I’d love to take him shopping.
“I couldn’t pull that off. My tastes are too basic.”
“Never.” I pat the bed by my side and take a chance. “Come here, Kitten.” Last night when I called him that, he melted and had an orgasm.
“Kitten,” he scoffs, but dives into bed. “I’m no kitten.”
“You act like a ferocious lion, ready to attack.” I pull his hair around his ears, making it stick out like a mane. “But with me, you’re a soft kitten and a cuddle whore.”
“I don’t cuddle,” he says as he throws an arm around me. Arguing would be pointless, and we have errands to run today.
“Will you be okay if people see your hair like this?” His fingers comb through it again and again.
