Page 103 of The Grief We Hold

I sigh as I snuggle up against his bare chest. His warmth envelops me, and my first thought is I feel safe with him.

The second is about my options.

Cuddling or…

I swear my pussy leaks as I think about wrapping my lips around his cock.

Blow jobs have never been my favorite thing. Marco never respected my boundary of not swallowing. I’ve never particularly liked it. But he’d never warn me, or he’d say it came on too fast to react.

I sometimes tried to guess, and then he’d get sulky that I used my hand for too long to get him there.

The temptation is to simply say cuddling, just because it’s easier than having to explain all that, which would be an instant mood killer.

But I also want what Wraith laid out. A life with complete honesty. Something I have lived without.

And the idea of sucking his cock, of reducing this man to pure pleasure, is a head rush of power.

Be brave.

“What are we doing, Blue?”

“I don’t like swallowing,” I say.

Wraith taps the tip of my nose. “Was that hard to admit?”

“You don’t want to know the whole thought process I had to go through to say it.”

“So don’t swallow. Can’t help the pre-cum that leaks out while you’re sucking, but I sent you the bloodwork results, and you’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll let you know when I’m close. You don’t move, that’s on you.”

He wiggles down the bed a little but lifts his pillow, so his head is raised. Firmly, he takes his cock in his hand and gives it a slow and steady stroke.

I crawl down his body and move my hair so it won’t get in my way. Not that I need to worry about it when Wraith gathers it in his hand and wraps it around his fist.

“Don’t overthink it,” Wraith says. “Your mouth on my cock is going to feel good no matter how you do it.”

I listen to his words, knowing he’s telling me the truth. It’s reassuring to not have to second-guess or interpret hidden meaning.

When I run my tongue along the thick vein with a grin, Wraith sucks in a breath.

The sound reassures me that what he said is true. I can’t do this wrong. I lick the underside of his head and even playfully bite the ball on one end of his piercing.

His cock throbs in my palm as I take his head into my mouth, running my tongue over the small slit already leaking pre-cum.

My saliva lubricates him such that I can take him a little farther every time I lower my head. The piercing catches on my teeth, and Wraith’s abs flinch.

“I’m sor?—”

“Do it again,” Wraith instructs.

This time, I have to bite back a grin when I repeat the action. Knowing he enjoys it, that the flinch is pleasure, not pain, or at least maybe a mix of both, buoys my enjoyment.

I speed up my strokes, and Wraith’s hand tightens on my hair.

“Fuck,” Wraith curses. “Feels really fucking good, Blue. Suck it harder.”

I do as he asks. My cheeks hollow out as I suck down on him. Saliva drenches his cock, making my palm slippery.

The slurping noise I make should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. It feels raw. Basic.

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