Page 49 of An Acquired Taste

He swallows. “You’re under no obligation—”

“Unfair to me, I mean.” I pull his belt free, set it aside, and undo the button of his trousers. “I want this, Sebastian.” I drag the zipper down and pull his pants down to his ankles. He remains staring at me, his expression almost desperate. “So… may I?” I pause, fingers dipping into the waistband of his black briefs, and look up at him. I bite my bottom lip. “Please?”

He nods, at a loss for words, his eyes never leaving my face.

I pull his briefs down and gasp as his already hard length springs free. It is…impressive. I wrap my fist around him and slide it up and down, marveling at the weight of him in my palm. It’s almost unfair, how perfect he is.

“You have a beautiful cock,” I whisper. I remove my hand from him and lean in to drag the flat of my tongue up the bottom of his shaft slowly, slowly, all the way from base to tip.

Sebastian lets out a low, almost pained groan. I glance up to see his head leaning back against the shelves, his eyes shut and his lips parted. It gives me such a thrill to see how I affect him.

I love giving blow jobs, though with Declan it became more of a chore than anything. He was always silent, usually wouldn’t even warn me when he was about to finish in my mouth. No fun at all. I can already tell that Sebastian is going to be much more receptive to my efforts, and it makes excitement zip through my body.

I lick him again, dragging it out even further this time. Then I get a wicked idea.

“Grab one of those books,” I say.

He opens his eyes, faintly dazed. “Huh?”

I run my tongue over my lips. “I want you to read to me while I suck your cock, Sebastian.”

He stares at me for a moment. Then he fumbles on the shelf behind him and grabs a book. He glances down at me while I wait, my lips hovering just beyond his tip. Then he opens the book and starts to read.

In goddamn Latin. Of course. But… it’s actually pretty hot, hearing the way the foreign words glide off his tongue. And it reminds me a little of the readings at church when I was growing up, making this feel extra naughty.

I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and take him into my mouth.

“Fuck,” Sebastian moans, the stream of Latin cutting off. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him curse before, and hearing that filthy word from his perfect lips, because ofme, sends heat rippling all the way through my body. But I still stop moving as he stops reading. He stares at me, then seems to remember, and begins to read again.

I take him into my mouth and hum in appreciation as I slide my lips down his shaft, taking him deeper. He’s so thick, I can barely fit my mouth around him, but I welcome the challenge. I bob up and down on his length while he reads to me, his voice breathy and rough and occasionally punctuated by a groan.

He’s struggling to maintain control. I want to make him lose it. I push myself until I choke, flooding my mouth with thick saliva.

“Amelia,” he gasps. His hand grasps at my hair and then lets go.

I pull my mouth off him and let my breath ghost across the head of his cock.

“You can grab my hair,” I murmur, looking up at him. “Be a little rough with me if you want.” I smile. “I like it.” And then Isuction my lips around his cock again. His fingers grab a fistful of my hair without needing further encouragement.

But he’s still holding back, I can tell. Treating me like a delicate thing. I increase my pace, suck him deeper, push myself until I gag again. I keep going until his cock is wet and messy and he can’t read a full sentence anymore.

“Fuck,” he whispers again, and tosses the book aside. His hips jolt forward, driving himself deeper. I open as wide as I can and stay still, letting him set the pace now. And he does, driving into me in shallow but frantic thrusts. “God, that mouth of yours, I—” He cuts off in an incoherent groan and his grip on my hair tightens. “I’m going to cum.”

I moan my agreement around his length and reach up to grip his thighs, digging my nails into his skin. He groans one last time, pushing my head down, and then I feel him pulse and spill warmth into my mouth. I suck it all down, every last drop, and wait for his grip on my head to go limp before I pull free.

I lick my lips, staring up at him. Our eyes meet, and I see wonder on his face. He helps me to my feet and kisses me. Slow and sensual as his tongue slides against mine, tasting himself. He runs his fingers through my messy hair, smooths my rumpled dress over my hips.

For a few minutes, everything seems perfect. But then he breaks the kiss, glances at the door, and says, “We should go.”

I blink. “Back to the party?” I wipe my lips, realizing that my lipstick must be a mess. “Sure, I can just go to the bathroom and clean up…”

He gives me a shocked look. “God, no, not back to the party. We should go back to the estate.”

“…Oh.” I glance at the door and then back at him. “I feel like we just got here. You barely even introduced me to anyone.”

“Well, I can’t now,” he says, as if it should be obvious.

Heat creeps up my face, and I step back to let him re-dress himself. I become aware of the stiffness in my legs, the discomfort where my knees rested on the floorboards. It was fun in the moment, but now I feel dirty. Ashamed.

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