Page 87 of Surrender

Well, Merry Christmas to me.

I bite my lip to contain a smirk and settle my palms on his muscular thighs. He tenses beneath my hands.

“Then I guess I’ll stay.” I skate my palms upward.

He grunts around my stolen sucker. “I guess you will.”

“Mm-hmm.” I brush my fingertips across the bulge, and he groans low in his throat. My fingers curl into the waist of his pants, and I methodically peel them down. His cock bobs free, semi-hard and heavy. I wrap my palm around him and pump once.

“Whitney,” he mutters my name on a stilted groan.

“You took my sucker,” I pout.

“Do you want it back?” He holds the candy in front of my face.

“I think I found something better.” Leaning forward, I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock. It hardens beneath my fist.

His thighs tense. “You don’t know how much I’ve been dreaming about your fucking mouth.”

I play with him like he’s my candy. My much thicker, harder candy. The strawberry flavor lingers on my tongue, mixing with the smoky, salty flavor of his precum. With a hum, I take him deeper, drawing his cock to the back of my throat. It touches the back, and I convulse around him.

“Fuck,” he bites out sharply. A fist in my hair draws my face back. “You okay, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

He cups my jaw in one hand and his cock in the other. “You take me so well.” His voice is ragged. He dips his shaft back between my lips. Slow and controlled. I suck along the hardness, and my underwear dampens with each stroke. “You know just how to make me feel good.”

I light beneath his praise. His words touch something deep within me. Something new and intimate and profound. The men of my past only concentrated on how they felt, not on how Imadethem feel. As if I were nothing more than a wet hole, and any wet hole would do.

Not with Jack. His adoration reaches levels I never knew existed, and I crave more.

I open my mouth wide to take him deeper. Jack drags along my tongue, dipping in once more before pulling out.

“As good as that feels, I’m not going to come in your mouth.” Then his hands are beneath my armpits, and he hauls me off the floor.

He still has my stolen sucker in his mouth. Maybe I sucked him so well that he forgot it was there. Before I can ask, he hauls me around, twisting me until I’m on my hands and knees on his brand-new couch. I feel him sink to the ground behind me and peel my leggings over my hips.

“My turn.”

He attacks me with his tongue and lips. His large hands palm my ass, spreading and kneading my glutes as he licks a broad stripe from my clit to my entrance. I clench around nothing, gasping as he tastes and dips and swirls.

“You taste much better than candy.”

I register the sound of the sucker shattering on the hardwood.

“Ah!”

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

He attacks me between my legs as if his life’s sole mission is to make me come. I’m so wet he slides a thick finger inside of me with zero resistance. My back arches, and my hips pump, pushing back against the intrusion and his mouth.

I grip the cushions and bury my face in the couch.

His palm flattens along my spine, tracing upward between my shoulder blades. He presses down just as he buries his tongue with his finger.

“Fuck.” The cushion disguises my muffled moan. “More.”

He licks me leisurely. “I could spend all day right here eating you.”

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