Page 63 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

I try to relax. My thoughts. My jaw. My throat, but just the sight of that massive erection gripped in his big hand has me rock hard, too. “I want to do this,” I whisper.

“I want you to do it, too,” he finally admits in a low voice.

“Be patient with me,” I say before replacing his hand with mine, dipping my head, and licking a line up his shaft.

“Shit…” he hisses, his newly free hand immediately grasping the back of my neck.

I taste salt at his tip where he’s already leaking. I suck his exposed crown into my mouth and slide my tongue along the curve of it. He’s filling my mouth already, and I’ve got several, fat inches left to deal with.

“Fuck, how do you look even hotter right now?”

His praise is just as powerful as his punishment, and I work my mouth up and down his tip, making out with it, tasting it, andgrowing slightly obsessed with the feel of it on my tongue—hot and smooth and tight. When I get a better grip and manage to take more of him, I suck my way off the top and realize something mind-blowing. He’s uncut.

His foreskin quickly retracts again, unable to contain his bulging crown.

“Christian,” he whispers urgently.

Fascinated, I suck his foreskin between my lips, stretching it to its max length, and he exhales jaggedly. “Oh,God.”

I can’t help it. I have questions. “Is it sensitive?”

“Fuck yes.”

“In a good way?”

His hips rock, and I open my mouth to catch him, the foreskin sliding back from the pressure of my lips. Nudging up again, he goes further than I expected. I cough and pull off again. “Easy, big guy.”

He huffs what might be a laugh or a sex sound. Hard to tell. “Sorry. You feel pretty fucking good.”

Pretty good isn’tgreatthough. I’m going for epic, but I might need to lower my expectations and refamiliarize myself with my limits.

As I suck him in again, a thick blood vessel on the underside of his cock thuds against my tongue, and I hold still, tracing it with the tip of my tongue. Drool pours from my mouth, dripping down his cock and pooling on my hand at his base. I use it to stroke the rest of his length, twisting my wrist.

His fingertips dig into my neck as his thighs shake against my shoulders. “Christian…fuck…”

He tastes so goddamn good. Dark and woodsy—coated in salt. No wonder my mouth is watering. I’m starving.

He presses one of his thumbs to the hinge in my jaw, rubbing firmly.

I meet his eyes—hooded and demanding. His own jaw is tense and grinding. “Open wider for me, beautiful boy.”

I grunt around his cock and do as he says, stretching as much as I can, allowing him to wedge more of his cock inside. It gets thicker the further down I go, forcing my lips to stretch taut.

“Suck,” he whispers.

His hips rock up, and I hollow my cheeks, obeying. Using both hands, he keeps my head still and gently fucks my mouth, stopping short of my throat—in total control. “So fucking tight,” he groans, throwing his head back and giving me a view of his strained swallow.

I make a sound at the sight of it—helplessly turned on by the act of serving him—even if I’m not suffering. Not in the least. I palm my cock, but don’t whip it out. I hang onto it like it’s a stress toy because otherwise my hands would be all over him.

“That’s perfect, Christian… It’s fucking perfect. Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He’s stuffing me full, leaving very little for me to do to make it any better for him. I focus on my suction, keeping my eyes on him. It pays off when he looks down at me, his forehead creased and his chest heaving. His wet lips are parted, and something in his eyes looks agonized—broken. It’s beautiful, hot, and painful all at once.

His hand caresses my cheek even as his cock moves inside my mouth. “Yes,” he sighs. “Look at me just like that.”

I wouldn’t be able to stop if I tried.

We lock gazes, and I watch as his face grimaces and goes slack, as it morphs from agony to passion to shock.

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