He raised both hands and slid them over Livvy’s scalp. Her head felt small in his hands, the hair like coarse silk against his fingertips. He used one hand to gather up the strands and wrap them around his fist. All the while, he was cataloguing her reactions, so apparent in her expressive face: the way she bit her lip, the way her eyes narrowed in pleasure, how her short lashes fluttered. He used his grip to pull her away from where she was teasing his dick, leaving his cock just out of reach of her lips.
“Suck my dick.”
Her lips curved. “Whatever you’d like. Sir.”
It was thesirthat broke him, that made every dark fantasy he’d ever had about being serviced flare to the surface of his mind. Livvy on her knees in his office, his car, her bed. Her lips surrounded the head of his cock, and he arched his hips higher, letting her take him deeper. He used his grip on her hair to move her how he wanted, when he wanted.
It had been so long since he’d had this, he felt awkward at first, but they found their rhythm.
“Remember when I would sneak into your room?” he rasped. “You’d be waiting for me with your hair tied up.”
She moaned around his cock, and he groaned in return, his hips picking up speed, working in tandem with his hands on her head. He was full-on fucking her face now, possibly too savagely, but just when he grew worried that he should slow down, he noticed her arm shifting.
“Are you fucking yourself?” he said, the question more of a statement, because yeah. Her fingers were busy and hard at work, her leather pants unzipped just enough to let herself play. The knowledge that this was turning her on as much as it turned him on had him fucking her mouth harder and faster, the wet tightness and suction making his head spin. Her moans grew, the vibration of the sound sending tingles of pleasure straight to his balls. For a second he wondered if he should withdraw, but she shook her head, taking him deeper, her throat closing around the tip of his cock, and he exploded, spurting on her tongue. It took him long moments to recover, and he tilted his head back, gasping. “God. Thank you.” A thank you wasn’t enough. Not only for the orgasm, but for the heady, brief moments of freedom he’d found with her mouth.
He’d been powerless and, yet... powerful.
He hadn’t felt both those things at once in years. It was thrilling and scary and exciting.
Clothes rustled, and he opened his eyes to catch her shimmying out of her pants, her strong muscles flexing, the ink covering them dancing. A dragon wound itself around her right leg, the scales blue green and vibrant, eyes blood red. A flame lickedher upper thigh, a blur of crimson and orange and yellow.
That dragon had appeared on her body four or five years ago, but it had always been too dark for him to see it properly. He wanted to inspect every scale, but she was moving, climbing on top of him. She faced away, her legs draping over his thighs, his sensitized cock brushing the small of her back. “You want to thank me properly?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
He nodded dumbly. She grabbed his hand and brought it between her legs. He took over, and slid his fingers under the lace waistband, lifting her panties away from her skin, to catch a glimpse of her mound.
She let him play, her hands reaching over her head to grip his neck, nails digging into his skin. He looked down her body as it moved and writhed on top of his, loving every inch of her pleasure. Her moans grew louder and faster, her breathing deepening, and he followed her cues, his cock perking up at the way she was massaging it with her back.
Recognizing the signs of her impending release, he pressed his lips against her ear. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Come on me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze.”
She inhaled deeply, her body bearing down on him. “Give me more.”
“More what?”
“More fingers. I need you to fill me up.”
He thrust three fingers inside her, widening them. “There. Better?”
“Yes.”
“Better than my cock?”
She whimpered, her hips moving faster. “No.”
He pressed his thumb tight against her clit and sent his fingers deeper, curling them to hit the spot that always made her body rock. She cried out as he massaged that flesh, not giving her a second of reprieve. He bit her neck, harder than he’d ever previously dared, and her body bowed, her inner muscles tightening and releasing on him.
When she was finally done, he stroked her flesh softly, loath to leave this wet, warm place. He wanted to do everything to her.
Every little thing. Every sexual act he’d missed and hadn’t had in so long with this woman.
His phone rang, puncturing their bubble of sexual bliss. He cursed it mentally, because she immediately slid off his legs, grabbing her pants. Whatever this interlude had been, it was at an end. He sighed and buttoned up his trousers, grimacing at his renewed erection.
His phone stopped ringing, then started again.
“You should get that,” she muttered. “Sounds urgent.”
