Page 32 of Karma

I shrug. “Like I said, we can start slow with a blow job.”

We’re still standing just inside the door, and I can see the whole room from here. There’s not much to it. A bed that’s still made and clearly shows the indentations because it should’ve been replaced decades ago, a closet that someone also took an axe to and a table and chair where Grim must’ve been sitting when I interrupted his solitary drinking. The bottle of Four Roses bourbon on the table is about half full. It’s a brand I’m partial to, although I usually don’t care much as long as it burns and gets me drunk.

“Unless you’re suffering from whiskey dick,” I add. “Or just old age.”

This time, an electric current passes through his eyes, and making them burn even hotter. In happens in the split-second right before he grabs the back of my head, pulls me into the room, then slams the door shut and pushes me against it, hard enough to rattle it. Then I can’t see his eyes anymore because his lips are on mine and so much is happening I’m having trouble keeping track of it all. That intensity that was just brushing me before is a living thing now, demanding entrance, just as hard as his tongue in my mouth is.

He’s a great kisser. Not too eager, not too rough, just rough enough to show that damn dominance that hangs like a shield around him. Familiar, yet so foreign, because I’ve never been kissed well enough to make my knees all wobbly like they are now. I can definitely see why Karma likes him.

But even that’s a very distant thought behind everything else rushing through my mind. Stuff I don’t ever want to unpack, because the way his whole weight is pushing me against the door, and the way his tongue is invading my mouth, wrestling with mine, is exactly why I knocked on his door tonight.

Didn’t even know that until just now.

The rough bristles of his five o’clock shadow are catching on mine, his hand is in my hair now, and his kiss is relentless. And the best part… this is just a fraction of his strength. I could get used to this. More than I’m willing to explore right now.

I’m breathless, my heart pounding and my thoughts still just a swirling mess in my head as he breaks the kiss. He keeps a firm grip on my hair as his eyes sear right through that confusion in my head.

“I’m ready for that blow job now,” he says in a hoarse voice that makes every hair on my body stand to attention. Along with my throbbing cock, which is begging to be released from my jeans.

I hear him unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper, and as much as I want to check out his cock, I can’t actually look away from his eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Good.”

He laughs at that. A weird sound that’s neither dark, nor warm, just full of lust.

His hand is still a fist in my hair as he steps back, guiding me down to my knees. Not that I need much guidance. None of this dominating behavior bodes well for him letting me fuck him later, but right now that’s a distant thought too. Because his cock is so close to my lips now I can feel it pulsing. I can’t remember the last time, I was this excited to be down on my knees for a guy, stuck between a rock and a hard place, as it were. Usually, I like a lot more control than this.

His scent is this heady mixture of sweat and the clean air of the open road, and so unlike a woman’s it, as always, triggers a whole different part of my brain. Familiar in ways a woman never can be.

“What’s the hold up?” he asks hoarsely. “You scared?”

His fat cock is straining against the dark grey fabric of his boxers, and maybe I should be a little scared. But really, I just want to see it.

I was gonna take my time with it, but he’s impatient and yanks his boxers down before I can give him an answer.

His cock is every bit as fat as I expected, and long too. And he’s not even fully hard. It feels like a slap as it collides with my lips and cheek after finally being freed.

“Go on,” he says, and this time there’s a note of urgency in his voice riding the edges of his demand. Like maybe he’s afraid I’m gonna change my mind. I won’t.

I look up at him and smile, then grab his cock. Not gently, not too hard, just hard enough to show him he’s not the only one in control here. All of that makes him grip my hair tighter as he wobbles a little, and it only gets more pronounced as I stroke him. Oh, he wants this blow job from me. Bad. A few strokes is all he needs to grow fully hard, his cock throbbing as it strains against my palm.

Tasting his dick has been at the top of my to do list all night and there’s no way I can physically wait a minute longer now. Despite how much fun keeping him in suspense is.

He’s almost too wide to take. Good thing for him I like sucking cock. A lot. He sighs loudly and deeply as I take about half of him in my mouth, the shudder that passes through him vibrating against my tongue. There’s a lot more of that where this came from.

His fingers tense even harder in my hair and I can literally feel how much he wants to ram his dick all the way down my throat. Soon. Not yet.

I pull back to the head, using my tongue to graze the thick pulsing vein. And am rewarded with another shuddering sigh. And another as I let him inside again, deeper this time.

I do that a few more times, already feeling the soreness in my throat that I’m sure I’ll wake up with tomorrow. But it’s a small price to pay for getting a taste of this prime slab of meat.

The head’s hitting the back of my throat each time I let him slide in now and there’s still almost a hand span of him left to take. He’s losing the battle of letting me do this my way, at my pace. I can feel it in the pent-up tension that’s making the air between us pulse even harder than his cock.

I look up at him as his cock touches the back of my throat yet again, surprised to see him looking right back, the intensity in his eyes still there, but softer somehow, more like a jet than a single piercing point of light.

I don’t look away as I swallow the rest of him, barely managing not to gag. It’s been a minute since I’ve had anyone of his size. And with his resulting groan, his self-control is gone too.

He grips my hair tighter, his other hand like a vice against my shoulder to keep me in place as he pulls back and thrusts back in, over and over, bad enough to make my eyes water, but good enough that I do not want him to stop. I am gagging now, as his thrusts get wilder and deeper. His balls are slapping my chin, his face blurry because my eyes are watering so hard.

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