Page 150 of Mr. Wicked

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll get us there safely. Just don’t stop.” He moaned as I widened my lips around his crown and began to suck. “Goddamn it, you’re good at that.”

I gripped his base, squeezing the thickness, and while my spit ran under my fingers, I used it as a lubricant, spreading it across the bottom half of him, fisting upward until I met my mouth. Keeping my teeth tucked away, I lowered as far as I could go, stroking the skin I couldn’t reach with my lips, concaving my cheeks while I sucked.

Up and down.

“Jovana,” he growled.

He held my hair out of my face until it was time to shift, but he returned the moment his hand left the gearshift. That wasn’t the only movement. He also had to use both feet to drive, so each time he pressed and released the clutch, his hips almost bucked forward, causing his cock to thrust into my mouth.

I loved it.

The taste.

The feel.

The control.

The way he breathed harder every time I went deeper. The way he made that noise—a half moan, half hiss—whenever I rose toward his tip.

The way I could feel his orgasm coming closer by how he was rocking into me, his dick growing even harder. His hand clutching my hair when it came back to my head.

“Fuuuck!”

Every time I dipped, I swirled my tongue around each side, adding more wetness, pressure, friction, and when I tilted back toward the tip, I gave that spot an extra suck.

Like I was urging the cum out.

Like I was begging for it.

“You’re going to make me fucking come.” He was moving with me. His breath so loud and heavy, I could feel it hitting the back of my head. “Is that what you want? For me to fill your fucking mouth with my cum?”

I didn’t respond.

I just went harder.

Lower.

My hand picking up speed, rising to the center and back down, repeating that motion and altering the strength in my grip.

“Oh fuck. That’s it. That’s just how I want it.”

And it was just what he needed, because his hips had stilled, his erection at its absolute hardest, and I could feel him on the verge of exploding. How the tingles were climbing through him, enough that it forced him to halt his movements and just take what I was giving him.

That lasted only a few seconds before he grunted, “Fuck me,” and the first of his orgasm shot into my mouth.

The thickness pooled across my tongue, and it dripped through my lips as I lowered, even more so as he shot a second stream and a third. I held in as much as I could, trying not to cover him with it, swallowing what he was giving me so my mouth wouldn’t fill.

“Jovana, my God.” I didn’t know if we were at a stoplight or he’d pulled over, but his hand was in my hair, guiding me across his length. “That feels so fucking amazing.”

I continued to bob, my speed not letting up, my pressure as hard as it was before, and when I got the sense that he was done, that I’d drained him of every drop, that was when I slowed.

Cum had slipped from my mouth and slid down to his base and I wasn’t going to let that dry, especially since we weren’t going home. So I lapped up all the wetness, taking my time to lick and swallow around the bottom and up his cock, and finished at the tip.

With each second that passed, he gave me an earful—his breathing so erotic, his light moans making me even wetter.

And when I was satisfied with the cleanup, I tucked him back into his boxer briefs, tugged on the zipper, and put his button through the hole.

I was just lifting myself off his lap and wiping both sides of my mouth when he said, “Who the fuck are you?”

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