He tasted like salt and skin and something underneath that was just him. I licked again, more deliberately this time, tracing the ridge of the head with my tongue. His thighs trembled on either side of my shoulders.
I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to remember what he’d done to me—the things that had made me lose my mind—and reverse engineer it. I wrapped my hand around the base and took the head into my mouth, sucking gently.
“Oh my God.” His voice was thin, reedy. “Derek, yourmouth—”
I took him deeper, figuring out the mechanics as I went. How to breathe. How to relax my jaw. How to use my tongue against the underside while I bobbed my head. It was messy and uncoordinated but Théo didn’t seem to mind. He was making these broken little sounds, his hips twitching with the effort of not thrusting up.
I pulled off to catch my breath, stroking him slowly. “Is this okay?”
“Okay?” He laughed, breathless. “You’re a fucking natural.”
“Mm.” I kissed the inside of his thigh, felt the muscle jump under my lips.
“Seriously. Ten years with one woman andthisis what you’ve been hiding?” He let out a shaky exhale as I nipped at the sensitive skin. “Criminal. Absolutely criminal.”
Something warm bloomed in my chest at the praise. I pressed another kiss to his thigh, working my way back toward where he wanted me.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured against his skin. “Let me take care of you.”
“That’s it,” he said softly, fingers threading through my hair. “So good for me, daddy.”
The first time he’d said it, we weren’t even touching. It was weeks ago—he was sprawled on my couch, Aspen’s head in his lap, and I was handing him the list of care instructions before my road trip.
You’ll be good for me while daddy’s away, he’d murmured to Aspen. But his eyes had been on mine.
I’d laughed it off. Told myself the jolt that went through me was just surprise. Just the unexpectedness of hearing that word in his low, gravelly voice.
But now—now my whole body shuddered.
“Oh,” he said slowly, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at me. “Oh. You like that.”
“I don’t—” My face was burning. “That’s not—”
“You do.” Something between delight and wonder crossed his face. “I knew you liked being called daddy. Saint Sully has a kinky side.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.” He was grinning now, that sharp teasing edge back in his voice, but underneath it was something warmer. “Come on, daddy. Show me what a good job you can do.”
I took him back into my mouth before he could tease me any further. Deeper this time, pushing past my comfort zone, wanting to give him everything. My hand worked what I couldn’t fit, stroking in time with my mouth. I could feel him getting closer—the way his thighs tensed, the way his breathing went ragged and uneven.
“Derek, I’m going to—” His fingers tugged at my hair in warning. “You should pull off, I’m—”
I didn’t pull off.
I wanted to know what he tasted like. Wanted to swallow him down the way he’d swallowed me. Wanted to feel him come apart on my tongue.
He came with a broken cry, spilling hot and bitter into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could, some of it escaping down my chin, and worked him through it until he was twitching with oversensitivity and pushing weakly at my shoulder.
I pulled off and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, looking up at him.
He was wrecked. Flushed and panting, hair a mess against my pillow, eyes glazed and half-lidded. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Come here,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I crawled up his body and he pulled me down into a kiss, licking the taste of himself out of my mouth. His hand snakedbetween us and wrapped around my cock—I was so hard it almost hurt—and I groaned against his lips.
“My turn,” he murmured and wrapped his hand around me.
