“Oh… fuck…” Harley gasped as I pressed my thumb into him, slipping easily inside his tight heat. His head fell back on the pillow, eyes shut, and I recognized a man desperately trying to hold back. His jaw clenched as his moans turned to choked cries.
I dropped my mouth back on his cock, bobbing up and down on his length quickly, while I fucked him with my thumb. With every pass, my cheeks hollowed, and I dragged the pad of my thumb over that hidden spot inside him. A loud cry tore through him as he fell apart, coming in hot spurts on my tongue. Thick, salty cum hit the back of my throat. The flavor was delicious as I swallowed each drop. I continued to work him through it, drawing out every sound and ounce of cum that I could. My thumb thrusted steadily into him while I milked him with my mouth until he shuddered, oversensitive and spent. Tasting him had me teetering on the edge like I never had before. I hadn’t even touched myself, and I was ready to come along with him.
When he was panting and melting into the mattress, I made my way up his body with my dick in my hand, desperate to relieve the coiled up tension wracking every inch of me. My fist squeezed the base of my shaft as I tried to stave off the edge that denial had me teetering on.
“What about—” I shut him up as I slammed my lips to his in a kiss hard enough to bruise. My fist skated up and down my own length, the rough friction dragging a growl out of me. Reaching between us, he knocked my hand away and quickly took over. His palm enveloped me in warm, tentative strokesthat tightened with confidence. I bucked into his grip with a gasp.
“Please,” Harley whispered, his tone almost as desperate as I was in that moment.
“Are you begging for my cum, princess?”
“Maybe.”The thought was almost enough to shatter my control.
“Say it again,” I ordered between ragged breaths. I was trembling head-to-toe in his hand. My muscles were locked, and every nerve screamed for relief. “Let me hear you beg, Harley.”
“Please, Mav,” he rasped. Rising off the pillow, he kissed me, the fist in my hair anchoring me to him. “Please… come for me… I need you to come.”
Fuck me.
I shattered, my body going rigid over him as I came, painting his stomach in hot ropes of cum. My chest heaved with every wave of pleasure surging through me, and broken gasps tore from my throat. Forehead falling to his, I groaned as he milked me for all I was worth until I was putty in his hands. The aftershocks left every inch of me tingling with euphoria.
I kissed him once. Twice. Three times.
“You good, princess?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” Harley let out, breathless and grinning.
“Good.”
CHAPTER 24
maverick
Hot! Hot! Hot!” I hissed as I grabbed the coffee mug out of the microwave. I fumbled as I almost dropped it, swore even louder when it burned my palms, and narrowly avoided breaking it while I tossed it on the counter. “Goddamn!”
“Are you okay in there?” Harley called from the bedroom.
“I’m good!” I shouted back and hoped he believed me, despite the way my voice cracked. Clearing my throat, I repeated, “I’m good. Just… give me a minute, and I’ll be in there.”
After cleaning up, I’d left Harley in my bed to surprise him with my favorite comfort food. Honestly, you couldn’t go wrong with a microwaved mug brownie made with Kahlua. Drunken brownies made everything better—at least for me, they did. Considering it was his first time for anything, I wanted to do something to ease his worries, if he had any.Hopefully, he didn’t.
Grabbing the only old dish towel I had, I wrapped the mug up, found a spoon, and hurried back to the bedroom. Harley sat awkwardly in my bed, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. One of my shirts hung slightly loose around his lean frame, and his hair was disheveled and finger-combed. I could get used to the sight of him like this.
“Come here.” I climbed on the bed behind him and scooted around until my legs were on either side of him. Before I was settled, he leaned back into me with a little sigh—a notion that made my heart swell. His body was warm against mine, and I wrapped one arm around his middle to keep him close.
“What’d you make?”
“Drunken brownie in a mug.”
“That’s not a thing,” he scoffed.
“It is when I make them,” I retorted. As I said it, he took the spoon and helped himself to a big bite. The groan he let out was utterly satisfying and made me smile.See? Drunken brownies made everything better.
“How drunken are we talking?” Harley asked through another bite.
“Eh.” I made a face. “I only add a little bit of Kahlua.”
At least, this time.Sometimes, I added more, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I also didn’t tell him that sometimes I skipped the brownie part altogether and just drowned in a bottle of Kahlua. It just depended on my mood.
