“Jovie, baby,” he rasps as I slide his zipper down slowly.
He’s hard and ready as I reach in and release him from his boxer briefs.
I hold the base with one hand as I stroke him with the other. Rubbing my thumb over his crown and through the drop of clear fluid. His cock twitches in my grip, and his breath catches as he watches me.
His eyes meet mine as I bite down on my bottom lip and I drink him in.
The broad width of his chest and shoulders, chiseled ab muscles, lean hips, powerful thighs, and the look of pure ecstasy on his face.
His hands thread into my hair, and he wraps the long strands around his fist as I lick his tip.
I moan as the salty taste of him hits my tongue. The heat in his eyes intensifies, and I lick him again, this time letting my tongue roll around the swollen bulb a few times before opening my mouth and taking him deep.
I keep my fingers wrapped firmly around him, and his fist holds my head in place as he thrusts his hips gently at first before sliding in as far as he can go.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, baby.”
I begin to suck him in earnest as he moves slowly in and out of my mouth.
His free hand caresses my jaw as he finds his rhythm. I grip the back of his thigh and hold on as I relax my jaw and take him in deeper.
His fingers tug painfully at my hair as he gets close.
“Jovie, I’m going to come,” he warns.
His breath quickens, and his back arches as his release hits the back of my throat. I swallow, savoring every drop.
“Geezus. You’re incredible,” he growls.
His spent cock falls from my mouth as his deep voice washes over me, and I look up to see his eyes trained on me. His expression is intense and raw, making my heart beat erratically.
His hand moves from my hair to cup the back of my neck, and he leans down to capture my mouth. He kisses me slowly as he wraps his arms around me, guiding me onto his chest as he lies down.
“I’ve been dreaming of fucking you on this damn floor for weeks,” he says.
I squirm against him.
He grins as he kisses my nose.
“But I’m gonna need a minute.”
Axle
Ifinish rewinding the clip and let it play one more time on the large monitor mounted to the wall of the video room.
“Watch your left shoulder,” I tell Taron, pointing at the screen.
The sixteen-year-old leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, studying every frame.
The kid has talent. The kind you can’t teach.
The bull explodes out of the chute, and even on video, I can see his natural timing. His balance comes instinctively. His feet are correctly positioned, and his free arm is loose.
Most young riders spend years trying to develop that.
Taron already has it.
“Right there,” I say, pausing the footage.
