The zipper came down. Cool air hit my straining length.
“And don’t worry.” She tugged at my jeans until I lifted my hips, letting her pull them down along with my boxers. “If you finish fast, you can take your time with me until you’re ready to go again.”
I sprang free, hard and aching. She stared at me, her tongue sliding along her lower lip.
“God.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You have no idea how many times I imagined this.”
“Probably half as many times as I did.”
“Doubt it.” She wrapped her fingers around the base, and I hissed at the contact. Aside from that one moment of passion during lockdown, this was the first hand to touch me in over a decade. “I had a lot of slow shifts in that infirmary.”
Then she lowered her head.
Her tongue traced around the tip, and the world narrowed to that single point of contact. The sensation was overwhelming. Her tongue was light. Teasing. Her eyes locked with mine as she licked a slow stripe down my shaft and back up again, coating me in wet heat.
I groaned, my head falling back against the seat.
“Eyes on me,” she commanded.
I forced my head up. Watched as she took me into her mouth, inch by inch, sinking down until I felt the back of her throat. She hummed around me, the vibration spreading through my entire body.
Fourteen years. Fourteen years of nothing but my own hand in the dark, and now this. Now her.
She pulled up slowly, sucking gently, then sank back down. Her rhythm was perfect. Unhurried. Like she wanted to savor every second of this as much as I did.
She pulled off with a soft pop, stroking me slowly. “You okay?”
“Define okay.”
“Still breathing?”
“Barely.”
She grinned and took me back into her mouth, deeper this time. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, and I had to grip the leather seat to keep from losing it right there.
The sight of her on her knees between my legs, her dark hair spilling over my thighs, her lips stretched around me—I couldn’t look away. This was better than any fantasy. Better than anything I’d imagined in that cell when the lights went out.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, not guiding, just needing to touch her. She moaned around me, and the sound shot straight to my core.
“Harper.” My voice was wrecked. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to …”
She pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at me with swollen lips and heavy eyes.
“Knox.”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to grab my hair.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “And fuck my mouth.”
Every thought in my head evaporated.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve been thinking about this every night.” She pressed a kiss to my hip, then my stomach. “Watching you try to stay composed in that infirmary while I pictured exactly this. So, yes.” She looked up at me, all heat and hunger and certainty. “I’m sure.”
She licked her lips and opened for me, her jaw relaxing. I gathered her hair in my fist, wrapping the dark strands around my knuckles, and guided her head down. Slowly. Watching every inch disappear between her lips until she’d taken all of me.
Then I began to move.
