Page 123 of Never Let You Go

I cup his balls in one hand, dig my nails in his hip with the other hand, and take him deeper. He pushes himself into my mouth, groaning. I didn’t think it would be possible, but he gets harder and longer. I adjust my angle so I can fit him and alternate the sucking and licking, teasing him and fulfilling him.

I love the feel of him in my mouth. His smell. The salty taste of his precum, the way his hands softly cup my head.

What I love the most is the power I have over him. The power to give him that release.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he hisses after a little while. He tilts his hips back and tries pulling my head off, but I swat his hand away and bob my head up and down, sucking him rhythmically, both my hands cupping the base of his shaft, now that his balls are high and he’s entirely in me. His cock hits the back of my throat, and every time it does, I suck on it, longer each time, priming my throat for what I know is coming.

I will not let a stupid gag reflex ruin this moment.

Until Christopher, I didn’t enjoy going down on a man, but holy hell, am I drunk right now, on the pulsing of his cock in my mouth, on his heavy breathing, on his growling curse words at me. Shivers run through my spine at every sign he’s giving me of the effect I have on him.

I’m throbbing with pleasure at the sexual power I hold over him, right now. This is an experience like never before. I’m totally and only pleasuring him, totally at his mercy.

But I want more.

I bring his hands to my head.

I want him to direct my movements.

I want him to be in charge.

I want him to fuck my mouth.

He takes control, and for a few more moments—seconds or hours—I’m this pleasure thing for him, and I almost come. My spine arches, my breasts are painful with pleasure, and my middle is pulsating, mistaking the seams of my jeans for the magnificent cock in my mouth.

Christopher tenses and hisses my name like it’s a swear word. I lock eyes with him as he comes in long, powerful streaks down my throat. I take it all in, the saltiness hitting the back of my throat as I swallow, again and again, for as long as it lasts, tears lining my eyes as I strain to be what he needs.

After the last tremors die down in his body, he pulls me up so I’m straddling him. I unzip my jeans and slide a hand inside my panties, and before he can take over, I come against his chest.

“Is there something wrong with me that I just want to be your sex plaything?” I ask in a small voice, wondering what just happened to me but, suddenly, trusting him with all the answers.

His cock answers for him, but after a beat, he says, “That’s a question with too many degrees. I’m too spent to think about it, right now.”

He lifts us off the armchair and pulls up his jeans. He runs a hand through his hair and gets ready to leave and pick up Skye from school. He has sex written all over him, and I can’t wait until the next time we can spend the night.

“I didn’t want memories of you in my bedroom,” he says before leaving, and suddenly, I feel off-centered.

thirty-five

Christopher

Ismile to myself as I get into my truck to go pick up Skye.

It was only a stupid phone lens and a couple of things I threw in there because I thought it’d make her happy. But, fuck, I didn’t expect that reaction from her.

What I should have expected was my reaction at seeing her in my bedroom. The force of it surprised me. It felt too good. Too right. Totally within my reach, yet so far.

Granted, when she got on her knees, my focus was on the first-class treatment my dick was getting, so it was easy to let go and just enjoy the ride.

I get hard again thinking how she licked me and sucked me, then… ah fuck… all but begging me to fuck her mouth. Guiding my hands on her head and pleading with her watery eyes.

She’s a fucking fantasy.

Body of a goddess, and so eager to please me.

Fuuuuck.

But when she got up and nuzzled against my chest and fucking orgasmed on me, I was close to being overwhelmed by my feelings.

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