‘You’ve started worrying before we’ve even begun.’ Along with his rebuke, he pushes my back flat to the bed. ‘Enough.’
‘God, I love it when you’re all commanding and bossy.’
My tone drips with sarcasm, causing Kai to glance up from pushing the piled bedding from the end of the bed. One elegant eyebrow raised in question, he doesn’t respond but moves closer, stretching his long body next to me. The towel at his hips loosens slightly, the soft, downy whiteness only half-concealing his hardened length.
‘My, is that a loofah you have in your towel, or are you just pleased to see me?’
As he begins to chuckle, I quickly grab his phone from the pillow, swiping open the camera app and holding it out of his reach.
His isnotthe reaction I’d imagined. He loosens the towel, his cock beautiful and vulgar, springing free.
‘Well?’ Lying back against the pillows, he adjusts his legs, widening them a touch.
I swallow thickly, the sound echoing in my ears over the sudden silence, the sight of him lying there like an erotic centrefold.On display. For me. My heart begins to pound from the possibilities, the pressure of making a wrong move.
‘Dick pics?’ I ask uncertainly.Is he up for this?
‘I believe the preferred lexicon iscockshots.’ He uses an unnecessary emphasis on the word. I’m shocked enough as it is. ‘And you started it,’ he purrs dangerously, glancing into his lap and taking his own heaviness in hand.
I’m definitely not ready to end this, but how do I continue? My eyes follow his satin sleek length reacting against his palm. God, I love it. Love him. Watching him holding—stroking—himself makes me feel all weak and... needy.And reminds me to have a peek at his phone library sometime.
‘Unless you’re playing cock tease.’
Oh, I want to tease it, all right, I just haven’t decided how.
According to Cosmo and the like, I think he’s supposed to enjoy it more than, well, me. It. This. My sudden plan: going down on him. Maybe if I had to recall a time before Kai, I might agree with the magazine. But with him? The sense of power that comes from the feeling of him twitching beneath me and dancing to my tune. I’d be mad to turn that opportunity down.
His breath catches a little and I realise I’ve zoned out, staring at his junk. As my eyes rise, he lowers his dark lashes, hiding the flash of knowing.
Fuck a duck. I might not be drooling, but I am wet just looking at him.
Struck by a sudden inspiration, I climb between his open legs. Making as though to take a photograph, I hold the phone first this way, then that, looking for the best angle. I hunker down, settling on my elbows—very close-up style—as he runs his thumb over a pearly taut tip.
I click, and before he has time to react, grab his thumb and take it into my mouth, sucking it in deep.
God, his groan. It resonates between my legs, deepening as I hold his phone aloft, taking a picture as I move my attention to his swollen head. Wetting my lips, I push them over him.
I’m so buying a selfie stick.
His hand falls away and I replace it with my own, licking, wetly coating the rest of him. I work him slowly with both mouth and hand, torn between watching my actions and just watching him. Each time my eyes rise the length of his chest, his own have grown darker, hungrier, the muscles in his abs flexing and contracting against my phone-holding hand.
I moan around him as I move faster, the sound vibrating through my lips, making him twitch. Wetness leaks between my legs and I drop the phone, unconsciously pushing my hand there, sliding fingers through my slick seam. His mouth falls open, his breathing now rapid and rough and matching my mouth.
‘Fuck,’ he grunts, ‘I want to see.’ I hum deeply, pushing down further, gasping a little as his wide crown touches the back of my throat. ‘Get up here.’
One hand under my arm, he pulls me upright, my mouth releasing him with a wet pop. Crushing me to his chest, his mouth is at my neck, hot and insistent kisses trailing to my jaw.
‘Don’t.’ I smile, tilting my chin up, away from his mouth. ‘Morning breath,’ I sort of whimper as his teeth graze the lobe of my ear.
‘Shh,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t move your hand.’ Pushing my chest from his, he grabs his phone again, taking a shot of my two fingers tight on my clit.
Then, lifting my hand from between my legs, he feeds them into his mouth.And takes a shot.
His hand between my legs, fingers splayed.Snap.
Twisting his wrist, he plunges two fingers deep inside.Snap.
Snap, snap, snap. He watches my face, the camera in one hand, the other still between my legs as I writhe above him, riding it. I reach out and grab his shoulders as my legs begin to twitch, his fingers beckoning me on, the avid look on his face consuming me.
