When she stopped writhing against him and he could suck in a breath, Elliott said, “That’s a good girl,” before kissing her center again.
“Oh myfuck...” With her lids closed, brows raised, and a smile pulling at her open lips, Fern exhaled a sweet sigh. Then her blue eyes flew open, and she pressed a flat foot to the center of his chest, urging him up to his knees.
He grabbed her ankle and slid his rough palms up her smooth leg, en route to her rosy, wet center.
“Elllliottt,” she dragged out his name, scolding, as she plucked his fingers from her skin. “No. It’s your turn.”
“I thought I was in charge?” He pouted.
“You were incontrol. I’m always in charge.” She winked dangerously and sat up, sliding her foot down his chest, over his raging erection.
It sprang back into position while she slipped her legs around behind his and scooted forward. Her warm feet crossed over his calves as she satcross-legged, and he knelt before her. Right before her. He was effectively trapped with his balls at her chin and his cock thwacking her forehead.
Fern grabbed his ass and gripped his shaft, and Elliott groaned, content with her kneading fingers and exploratory touches. But when her tongue met the underside of his length, a wave of bliss crashed through him and he whimpered.
“My god, Fern. Fuck.”
She licked around his crown while scraping her nails down the fronts of his thighs. He shuddered, his bear purring within him, glad Elliott was finally doing the right thing.
Fern took him between her lips, sucking and rolling her tongue over his head. With one hand, she stroked in time with her mouth; with the other, she explored his body, never halting her aimless journey as her touch proclaimed each landmark a new erogenous zone.
“Like heaven,” he murmured when she teased his tightening balls. “I’m going to come.”
She nodded, keeping him in her mouth, her intentions clear.
“You don’t have to—” he began, but it was too late. With a shaky moan, his pleasure peaked, and he coated her pink tongue.
She swallowed while he was still in her mouth, and Elliott groaned again before collapsing onto his side, trapping her leg beneath him.
Laughing melodically, she freed her foot and melted into a puddle, the top of her head pressing in under his chin.
They lay like that for a few minutes, damp and panting, until he found the energy to clean them up and get her something to toss on. He didn’t give Fern the option of wearing her own clothes; a pair of his black boxer briefs and a red T-shirt would do. He’d make her give them back before leaving, and hewouldn’twash them until he had to.
“Hey, you still awake?” he whispered, some time later.
“Yeah.” She scratched her fingers through his chest hair and snuggled against his side.
“I have to run out to the studio to clean up before bed.”
“Oh my gosh!” She sat, planting her palm on his pec for leverage. “You should’ve said something earlier. We could have doneit—”
“When? I wasn’t going to interrupt us to clean equipment.”
Grinning, she said, “Come on then, let’s go.”
“You stay here, I don’t mind taking care of it.”
“No. I’m helping.”
She did help, then he helped her—sexually speaking—by sitting her on the edge of the work table, taking a seat, and enjoying a bedtime snack.
Sometime much later, back in bed and cuddled together, he whispered (again), “Hey, you still awake?”
“Mhm.” She found his hand on his stomach and entwined her fingers with his, curling herself against his side.
“I’m sorry I said you talk too much, way back when. I didn’t mean it. It was a bad joke.”
Tilting her head up, she kissed his jaw before saying, “I know.”
