Page 26 of Knot That Difficult

Which is when I bother him the most and like to poke the bear.

I grin at him, and he gives me an unimpressed look. “I like when you’re aggressive,” I purr.

“You’re still talking. I need towork,Ace.”

He turns his attention back to his monitor, and my cock nearly bursts.

Connor is happy and playful, which is a rare sight.

It shouldn’t be a big fucking deal, but I’m hyperaware of his moods and emotions—and maybe that’s unhealthy. But what the fuck do I care?

He’s mine, just as much as I am his.

Which is why I crawl on my knees toward him, desperate for his attention as he keeps an air of bored indifference at his desk.

Oh, fuckyes.

He continues typing but slightly rolls his chair back, giving me room to crawl underneath the desk.

I kneel right in front of the tented erection in his tailored pants.

He continues typing, his throat clearing the only indication that he’s affected by my kneeling before him.

I grip his cock through the pants, groping to see how hard he is. He’s already steel in my hand, and I make easy work of unzipping his pants and releasing his massive cock from its confinement.

My mouth waters as I look at his tip, wet with precome.

Humming, I lean forward and swipe my tongue along the slit, teasing the head of his dick.

No response. His typing continues.

I open my mouth and take him deeper, pushing until my nose hits the front of his boxers.

I pride myself on not having a gag reflex for him. I can breathe better when his cock is crammed down my throat, actually.

Connor would say I’m lying—but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

There’s a brief stroking of my hair, and I grip his muscled thigh for balance. “Just like that,” he murmurs. “Keep me warm and stay quiet.”

He goes back to typing, and I swallow around him, my throat constricting.

This close, I can scent him. He’s warmth, bourbon, and the slightest hint of coffee.

He’s the perfect spice to my earthiness.

Connor swears I smell like lavender, the herb meant to alleviate anxiety. He’s the first person that’s ever told me that I calm them instead of putting them on edge.

I swallow around him again.

“Shit,” he hisses. “You’re so good at that.”

I remain silent, slightly bobbing my head and relaxing my throat to take him deeper.

I’ll happily sit here for hours, being his personal cockwarmer.

Pleasing him pleases me.

I’m not sure he always believes me when I tell him I love doing it—but when he’s shooting his cum down my throat, he’s much more agreeable to the idea.

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