My heart pounds wildly as I look up at him from between his legs.
His hands grip the edge of the island behind him hard enough that his knuckles whiten. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know.” The words come out softer than I expect. But I’m certain that I want this.
His entire body goes tense when I reach for his joggers, then grab him, pulling him free.
He sucks in a breath as I stare at his large, thick erection, the tip glistening with precum.
“Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, I lean forward, my tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting his salty precum. A soft moan escapes me as I savor his taste. It floods my senses, making my head spin and my core clench.
“Fuck.” His hand tightens on the edge of the island behind him.
I whimper as I take him deeper into my mouth, my lips stretching around his girth. I can’t take all of him, but I do what I can, my tongue swirling over the tip.
“Jesus, Peyton.” His hand leaves the island, sliding into my hair.
My hand glides from his base, stroking what I can’t fit in my mouth. A thrill rolls through me as his face contorts in pleasure, his head falling back, a low moan escaping his lips. His hand tightens in my hair, as though he’s starting to lose control.
And fuck, do I want to be the one who unravels him.
The one who makes him lose control.
“Peyton—fuck that feels good,” he hisses. His thigh muscles tense like he’s trying to rein himself in.
His words spur me on, and I bob my head, hollowing my cheeks, and sucking him as deep as I can. His hips lift from the barstool, like he can’t help himself.
“My God, Pey. This is better than I imagined.”
Another moan escapes me.
He imagined this?
That turns me on even more.
I suck faster, wanting to take care of him the way he’salways taken care of me. To show him how much I care for him. How much I want to please him.
He moans, loud and long, his hips moving faster. His hands curl into my hair like he can no longer control himself.
Fuck. It turns me on to see him unraveling.
I suck him deeper, my eyes watering from his girth. But his answering moan is worth it, as is the way his hips start moving in unison with the way my head bobs over him.
“Pey,” he whispers, thighs tensing as he continues rocking his hips. “You better stop if you don’t?—”
I suck harder, then swirl my tongue faster over his tip, wanting him to lose control. Wanting to taste him.
A long, low groan comes from him, his chest heaving, before he shoves himself deeper. His release spills down my throat, hot and thick.
I struggle to drink him down as he comes and comes... until he collapses onto the barstool.
I release him from my mouth, staring up at him. Using my fingers to wipe the cum and spit from my lips, I stand, gently sucking my fingers.
His eyes widen. “Jesus.”
I give him a coy smile, and he groans, grabbing me and pulling me against him.
