Page 22 of My Redneck Baby Daddy

He stripped my shirt off careful, like it might break, then his own. The tattoos on his arms flexed when he reached for my jeans. I fumbled with his belt because my fingers wouldn’t stop trembling, and he let me, watching my face the whole time. When I finally got the button open and pushed his jeans down, his dick sprang free, thick and heavy and already hard. I stared. I couldn’t help it.

"You can touch it," he said, voice rough. "If you want."

“Mmmhmm,”I murmured.

My hand looked small wrapped around him and he was hot to the touch. The was skin stretched tight, and bead of wetness already at the tip. I stroked once, experimental, and his hips jerked.

"Fuck, Rue."

Taste him…

The nasty little thought appeared and I obeyed.

I shifted down the bed before I could second-guess myself, still holding him. He was thicker up close, the head flushed dark, that single bead of wetness glistening. I leaned in and dragged the flat of my tongue across it. Salty. Clean. His whole body went still.

"Rue…baby…" His voice came out sounding hoarse like he was being strangled. "You don’t have to…"

"I want to." I glanced up taking in the fact that his eyes were almost black in the low light. Bobby’s Jo jaw had gone tight like he was holding himself back. "Tell me how."

He exhaled hard through his nose, one big hand coming down to rest light in my hair. Not pushing. Just there.

"Start slow. Just the head. Lick around it… yeah. Like that."

I did. Circled the tip with my tongue the way he said, then took just the head into my mouth and sucked gently. He made a low sound that went straight between my legs.

"That’s it. Soft. No teeth. You can use your hand on the rest—stroke while you suck. Fuck, just like that."

I followed every quiet instruction, taking a little more of his dick each time, learning the weight of him on my tongue. He stayed so careful with me—never thrusting, only guiding with the lightest pressure of his fingers, murmuring when I did something right.

"Good girl. Deeper if you want… or stay right there. Either way you’re gonna kill me."

I hummed around him, still clumsy but trying, and his hips twitched again before he forced them still. The wet sound of my mouth on his dick filled the quiet room, filthy and intimate all at once. After a few more slow pulls he eased me off with a soft, almost pained sound.

"That’s enough for now," he said, voice wrecked. "Don’t want to finish yet. Not when I’ve still got your pussy to take care of."

He got the rest of our clothes off without rushing, kissing down my throat, my collarbone, the soft place under my breast. When he settled between my thighs and pushed them open, I felt exposed in a way that made my stomach flip. He looked at my pussy like it was something worth staring at.

"Pretty," he murmured, and then he licked a long, slow stripe right up the center of me.

I gasped so hard my back arched off the bed. His tongue was broad and wet and filthy, circling my clit, dipping lower to push inside me just a little. He held my hips down when I tried to squirm, sucking gently, then harder, until my thighs were shaking around his head.

"Bobby Jo…oh my god…"

So good…

He hummed against me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine. Two thick fingers slid through my wetness, rubbing, then pressing carefully inside. I was tight, so tight it burned a little, but he went slow, curling them, stretching me open while his mouth stayed locked on my clit. The wet sounds of it were embarrassing and perfect. I came harder than I expected, thighs clamping around his head, a broken sound tearing out of my throat.

He crawled back up my body, wiping his mouth on the inside of his wrist, eyes dark and drinking me in.

"Still with me?"

I nodded, feeling delirious and happy. "Yes. Please."

At one point my glasses got shoved crooked into my temple and I yanked them off and threw them somewhere in the direction of the nightstand.

He laughed.

"Don't laugh at me."