He only let it out when she slipped her hand in.
And it came out rough, guttural, almost a moan.
His head went back with it, eyes closing. Though they opened again once she had him in her hands. Like he couldn’t resist thesight of her soft little fingers around his heavy cock. He had to watch her exploring the length of it, the thickness, all curious and just a little shocked.
Because itwasshocking.
Not in the demon way, not like the thing she’d glimpsed betweenthoselegs.
But enough that it should have made her nervous. He was going to fill her mouth. He was going to be impossible to take too much of. If he forced her down on it, or tried to fuck her like that—it would choke her. Though of course the thing about that was: she knew he never would.
In fact, he put a hand in her hair to stop her, over nothing more than a lick. Just one lick over the slick and swollen head of his cock, and he did it, like a reflex. Then, just as she was wondering if it was himself he was worried about, he spoke into the stifling, incredibly still air. “Go easy, easy, it’s a lot to take,” he said, and honestly she didn’t know what she liked more.
The fact that he did this.
Or that it was clearly so hard for him to even try. His voice cracked in the middle; she could feel that hand shaking. And as she hung there, parted lips an inch from him, that swollen cock spilled over her hand. Just one clear stream, so sweet and hot and unexpected that she couldn’t help it.
She ran her tongue over it, all the way from the base to the tip. Then once she was there, she did it. She took him in, in one long, slow kiss. Slow enough that he could stop her if he wanted to. But not so much that he couldn’t feel how eager and greedy she was. Or react to that.
“Ohhhh that’s so good, oh you’re so good to me,” he moaned, so low and rough it sent a thrill through her whole body. She actually made a sound of pleasure back, it was so intense. But he didn’tmake her regret it. That hand tightened in her hair to hear it. And his free one clenched in the sheets.
To stop himself from fucking up at you, she thought.
And knew she was right the moment she licked and sucked again. He clutched at the sheets even harder. He made a sound like someone drowning. She honestly almost stopped, just in case he was, somehow. But then he let out words, heated, strained words. “Oh that’s unbelievable,” he told her.
Like he’d never had anyone do this to him before.
In fact, it was clear he hadn’t. He had made it clear, right at the start. Whatever he’d experienced prior had been hot and heavy and probably weird. But not like this. Not softness, not tenderness. Not someone loving the taste and feel of him.
Because she couldn’t deny it—itwaswonderful.
He wasn’t salt-sweet like most men. He was like smoke, he was like fire. Almost too hot to take, but so delicious with it. She found herself making sounds. She found herself squirming and going at it desperately, eagerly. Like she couldn’t get enough. Like all she wanted was to feel him swell in her mouth, and spill over her tongue.More, more, more, she thought at him as she worked him—and he gave it. He filled her mouth with slick liquid, to the point where she was certain he had come.
She almost stopped.
Until that hand tightened in her hair.
Until he actually did almost urge her against him.
And then it was all she could do to not swallow him to the root. She took as much as she could of him, reveling in every bit of it. One hand making up for all the places her mouth couldn’t go, mouth so greedy he hardly seemed able to stand it.
Yet still he didn’t go over.
He kept going, way past the point of good sense. Way past thepoint she could really take. By the time it seemed like he was getting close, her whole body was one sweet ache. The place between her legs had its own heartbeat, and it rose and rose until she simply couldn’t resist.
She had to slip a hand there.
Just to take the edge off, she told herself.
But the longer this went on the more taking the edge off turned into something else, something more frantic. She searched out her clit and stroked it. Thought of the way he’d fucked her with his fingers, and tried something like the same. Curling them just a little, as he had done, until a heavy wave of pleasure hit her hard enough that she almost lost her rhythm.
Instead of slow, steady strokes over his cock, she got sloppy.
She almost said sorry, because it made him go very still. Or at least it seemed like this was what made him go very still. But just as she was about to stop and reassess, just as she was wondering if maybe he wasn’t enjoying this at all, she heard him. Low and hoarse, “Ohhhh man, you’re touching yourself. You’re touching yourself, oh jeez. Oh, does it feel good to do this to me? You like it this much, feeling my cock in your mouth?”
She couldn’t answer him, however.
She was too busy realizing that his words, and the feel of him, and her own hand between her legs—it was enough. More than enough. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure how she had never been able to make herself feel like this before. It seemed wild, considering how easily the pleasure came.
