Page 13 of Recon Rendezvous

“Fuck, baby.” I breathe, as she pulls off.

A small laugh huffs from her lips as she runs her full lips lightly along my length. My legs tremble as she greedily sucks me down again, adding her other hand, her grunts shooting vibrations down my shaft. I’m overdosing on the ecstasy of her fucking mouth. Reveling at the sight of her on her knees,those damned dazzling eyes locked with mine, the hedonism unparalleled as it shoots between us, pricking my skin from head to toe.

Her moans and ravenous mouth speak a language I want to be fluent in and the telltale tightening of my balls both shock and awe me. It’s been mere moments, and she has me on the brink with that talented mouth and slick tongue.

“I knew it… your mouth… fucking heaven.” Sucking in much needed air, my eyes roam over her face. “Damn, you’re pretty with your mouth full. Fucking perfect on your knees.”

The soft hand caressing my balls has me swelling, ready to unload, but before I completely lose myself in the paradise that is her mouth, I pull back, teeth bared as I stroke my slick cock inches from her puffy wet lips as she pants. My strokes increase as I grip her hair and hold her head just right so I can watch her face, see those heaving tits as I even the score.I’ll be fucking them next time.

With that thought, I explode with a filthy grunt, my hand still working, moving rapidly as I paint her cheeks, her slick chin, and neck in ribbons of thick, white cum. My dick is still partially hard and sensitive, and in a fucking daze, I shudder, smearing every spurt of cum on her face, across her forehead, down her cheek, even catching several drops in her hair, before tapping her nose with it, as I smile lazily down at her face. And she takes it all without protest, eyes wide, as she watches me. That zap of energy surges between us again and she’s fucking magnificent dripping in my cum.

“There’s your fucking truce. Now we’re even,” I murmur, reluctantly tucking myself back into my pants and walking to the door. I need to get out of here. I need to breathe in air not filled with her mouthwatering scent, but her guffaw freezes my hand on the handle, and I can’t resist turning to peer at her.

My eyes meet hers as she smirks. “Thanks.”

Her breathless rasp has my cock twitching again.

“For?” This should be good.

She slides a finger through the dripping cum on her cheek. “I don't swallow.” And with that fucking grenade tossed at my feet, she stands gracefully and saunters toward the bathroom.

Glancing at me over her shoulder, she says, “Fuck your truce. I’m having too much fun.”

Finally making it to my intended destination, I close the door and stand in front of the vanity before meeting my gaze in the oversized oval mirror. What the fuck just happened? Placing my hands on the cool black marble, I lean forward, my head turning side to side as I inspect my face. I don’t look any different, but I can’t say the same about how I feel.

I don’t know what it is about her that throws me off-kilter. Maybe it’s because I never know how she’s going to react, or better yet, what’s going to come out of that delicious but lethal fucking mouth.

But she gets something churning in my gut and I can’t tell if I love it or hate it. I guess I need more data. Trial and error. I’ll have to figure out just how far I can push her and how far I’m willing to go. I wasn’t just talking shit when I offered that truce. Getting along for a few days, fucking her until my balls ached sounded ideal. I’d finally get the girl who got away, and I wanted to fucking binge on her, gorge myself until I was good and well satiated and send her on her way hoping that would keep her out of my head. But with her here, there’s no sending her on her way. I’d see her frequently, take today’s brunch, and it would only feed whatever this feeling is I can’t shake.

Washing my hands, I give myself a onceover before I head out to the others and of course they started without me, but I can’t blame them. Gem is sitting on Eli’s lap at the dining table as he rubs her back, and she looks happy as a clam as she shovels food in her mouth. I can’t stifle my laugh as he prompts her to slow down and take a drink of water between bites.

Drew and Mia are seated on the floor, leaning against the couch as they eat at the coffee table. An empty plate hangs off the other side where Ty and Sasha are resting on the couch. Him on his back, Sasha on his chest, head tucked under his chin, as he holds her close under a fluffy throw.

No, no. All this domesticity just won’t do. Not now. Not after that.

“What the hell is going on in here? I leave for two seconds...” Turning to the giant flatscreen I spot the movie they’re watching. “And you’re watching fucking Save the Last Step Up the Streets Magic Honey fucking Flashdance?” I can’t help teasing the girls.

They all chuckle, egging me on.

“Sasha, I know this is all you. Why you gotta do me like that?” I say as I cover my heart with my hands.

She snorts. “It’sDirty Dancing. How can you not watch it every time it comes on?”

“Uhm, because I have better taste.”

Mia scoffs. “I’m starting to think you were abused as a child. How could your parents deprive you of Baby and Johnny?”

Gem yells from the dining room, “You missed out on a love that overcame the odds. Sit down and watch it.”

Before I can protest and beg for ESPN, London glides into the room and all thoughts fly from my head. She’s thrown on an oversized wine-colored sweater over her tank and leggings and some cute fuzzy socks. Her bare shoulder is a fucking tease, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into the expanse of silky skin there.

“Oooh, I loveDirty Dancing. Even though watching now as an adult is a totally different experience. Let me grab a plate.” I watch her scurry to the kitchen, and I follow as she throws over her shoulder. “I still can’t believe you don’t have coffee. You’re barbarians, but this spread makes up for it.”

“You don’t want to know what Sasha does to not need coffee in the morning,” Mia calls.

Her steps falter as she makes a face. Sidling up beside her, I lift the lids of the chafing dishes with a flourish before taking the plate from her hands. Her eyes narrow and I know she’s about to decimate me with that tongue, so I hold up my hand as my eyes roam over her. Her beautiful face is scrubbed bare, but her lips look tantalizingly soft and wet, as if begging to be kissed.

Clearing my throat, I look back at the dishes. “Chill, babycakes. I was going to ask how’s your throat, but instead, I’ll make your plate. What do you want?”

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