Page 47 of Beautifully Conflicted

“Win what?”

“The right to try again.”

Nostrils flaring, his eyes dart left and right, down to his bare cock, and me kneeling expectantly between his legs. It’s that last one that gives him pause, and I have a pretty good sense I know why.

He’s nearly naked, flagpole raised to the sky, twitching slightly with each ragged inhale he takes. Meanwhile, I’m fully clothed, kneeling between his slightly spread legs, and I canfeelthe hungry way I’m looking at him spread out beneath me. I’m vibrating with it. In other words, the picture we make right now is sexy as fuck, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit that, he’s into it. He wants me to finish, and by threatening him with my victory, he can give in without admitting that.

“You better not be fucking with me.” He reclines though doesn’t fully relax into the pillows.

“I’m totally fucking with you, but not about that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He sucks in a breath as I drag my forefinger along the sexy ‘V’ muscle, noting how it makes his dick strain toward the ceiling. But I don’t touch it. Not yet.

“It means I don’t know your body well enough to know what turns you on. But if I find it, and you get excited, I’ll know.” I run my finger along that ridge of muscle again, since it made him lurch so beautifully the first time, and it does the same thing again. But when I pinch his nipple he bites down on his lip, and a tiny drop of moisture seeps from his slit. “Bingo.”

“What makes you think that did anything?” The stubborn man stands his ground.

“Your dick’s leaking.”

“I—” Bennet looks down his body, his chest as unmoving as marble since he’s trying not to breathe. Not to do anything that will make it appear he’s conceding.

“We can test that theory.”

Bennet’s jaw clamps down tight as I brush my thumb back and forth over his nipple. He swallows thickly and I take that as him needing more incentive.

“I can suck on this beauty to see if it makes you drip even more.”

“Just suck my dick and get this over with.”

“Now, Lucy—” I drag my finger down the center of Bennet’s body “—why would I get this over with when the whole point is to make sure you enjoy it?”

“You’re the one who said it’d be virtually impossible not to enjoy getting your dick sucked no matter who does the sucking.” The tendons in his neck strain as he tries, and fails, not to push his head into the pillows when I glide my fingertip from tip to root. “Just do it already so you can leave.”

Despite the fact Bennet’s eyes are squeezed shut—I assume to avoid having to acknowledge it’smetouching him—I fucking love this. Love seeing him try to fight his obvious arousal. Love the way his body strains toward my touch, begging for more. Love knowing thatIcan make him feel this way, even if he’s not ready to admit it himself.

One day he will. And the better I make him feel, the sooner that day will come.

I almost feel a little guilty—the guy is legit struggling between wanting this and denying it—and since I’m extra when it comes to giving head, he doesn’t stand a chance against my mouth. That guilt only lasts a few seconds though. I’ve wanted this too long.

Inhaling deeply, filling my nose with his woodsy scent I’ve never been close enough to savor until now, I close my eyes, and open my mouth.

Bennet

Afull body shiver wracks through me when Damien’s mouth makes contact, licking a stripe from root to tip with the flat of his tongue.

Obviously, it feels good—like that fucker said, any mouth on your dick will have that effect—so it’s more the shock of not being ready for it than enjoyment that makes me shiver. Then he does it again, and I make the mistake of looking at him.

Holy fuck.

His eyes are closed, not squeezed shut like he doesn’t want to see the way mine were, more like he’s dreaming. Living out some lifelong fantasy, and that fantasy isme.

It’s…

His eyes snap to mine, and I do my best to look unaffected. Bored even, as if having my junk in his mouth doesn’t affect me at all.

I know I can force myself to give off a disinterested air. I pulled it off downstairs when he was fondling my dick and I just stood there and let him, not rocking into his touch or breathing heavy or even letting my scowl falter. But he didn’t look blissed out then. He was baiting me, a mischievous gleam in his eye, and I’ve got a lot of practice with ignoring that particular expression. This dreamy one though…damn.

Dear God, he’s a vision like this. Blonde hair hanging over his forehead. Black lashes brushing the top of his cheeks. Full, wet lips nipping at my crown as he peppers it with tiny kisses.

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