I go on my toes and brush my lips on his cheek…and then suddenly we’re really kissing. My hands go to his shoulders, then climb up to dig into the cool, silky strands of his hair.
I press my body along his lean, muscular frame, then shiver at how hard he is.
He caresses my breast with one hand and squeezes my ass with the other. Hot excitement shivers up my spine at the blatant show of desire and possessiveness.
I tug at his tie, undoing the impeccable knot and pulling it away. Excitement bubbles in my veins like champagne. I feel like a kid unwrapping her most anticipated birthday present. The blunt desire in his eyes is the best kind of gift for my aching soul.
I shift the angle of my head to deepen the kiss without smudging his glasses. I love the cool, intellectual look they give him. It makes me feel like a seductive vixen to be able to shatter his control. I run my hands down his torso, flicking my fingers over his small nipples through the clothes.
He groans against my mouth. Underneath my palms lies such restrained power. I want to see him unravel and completely lose control, just like I did when he dropped to his knees only a couple of hours ago.
I reach for his belt, nip his lower lip, then flick my tongue over the spot. He dips his head to recapture my mouth. Feeling playful, I cock my head and offer him my neck instead. He nuzzles the pulse point, his light breaths tickling my sensitive skin. The tip of his tongue licks over the spot, sending goosebumps all over my nape and back.
As soon as his pants are unfastened, I slip my hand under his boxers and grip his cock. It pulses against my palm. I bite my lip with triumph. Its feverish heat inflames my lust. I hold it hard, making it twitch. He lets out a tortured groan, and I shoot him a wicked smile.
“Good God, don’t stop,” he begs. His eyes are narrow as he gazes down at me.
Slowly pumping my hand, I slither down until my knees hit the floor. At this height I’m faced with the sexy, lean lines of his abs. Heat pools between my thighs, making me want to squirm. I trace the ridges of his taut belly with my mouth, licking and sucking and tasting. His skin burns under my lips. His breathing grows ragged, and he can’t keep the low groans from rising in his throat.
I give another good pump, then stop right below his cockhead. I swipe my thumb over the slick tip, spreading the precum. The muscles in his thighs tense in anticipation, and I can’t suppress a slow smile. His scent is strong, and more clear fluid drips from the end of his long, pulsing cock. I stroke the plum-shaped head with my tongue, getting a good taste of him—slightly salty and all Rhys.
I look up to see his reaction. His chest is barely moving—he’s holding his breath, waiting for me to do whatever I want. I pull him into my mouth, inch by inch.
Ecstasy slackens his face. He pins me with his eyes, and I can’t look away as I take as much of his cock as possible, until the tip grazes the back of my throat. Even then there’s still a decent length of him left. I wrap my hand around the base and carefully move my head, setting a rhythm.
He sighs with bliss as I pick up the tempo. My jaw aches a little from his enormous girth, but the satisfaction from watching him enjoy what I’m doing is more than enough of a reward. His hips twitch—he wants to fuck my mouth, but he catches himself. Instead, he threads his fingers into my hair.
“Are you wet?” he asks huskily.
I slip a hand between my legs. Then pull it out to show him the drenched digits.
“Fuck.”
I hum a wicked laugh, high on my power and control as I suck him.
“If going down on me makes you feel good…turns you on…”
I groan against his cock.
“Finger yourself. Make yourself feel good.”
I push three fingers inside as I hollow my cheeks. He wraps my hair around his fist as his breathing grows shallower. His thigh muscles tremble and tighten. I move my head in a wild rhythm while my fingers are pushing me toward orgasm. Pleasure shimmers along my nerve endings. I’m so close.
He groans, and his grip on my hair loosens to give me a choice—to pull away or not. I suck harder.
He lets out a cry as hot fluid fills my mouth. I swallow every drop, gazing up at him—every tendon stark in his neck, the abdominal muscles jerking. With his face twisted in agonized ecstasy, he looks like a fallen god.
“Holy shit, Freckles,” he manages, struggling to catch his breath.
I grin up at him. I couldn’t quite push myself over the edge, but it’s okay. Watching him come was just as satisfying.
Determination hardens his eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“You didn’t get to come.”
“So?”
