Page 36 of Roads Behind Us
“Don’t hold back. Suffocate me with this pretty pussy.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, but I obeyed and pressed my core to his waiting mouth. “Are you sure you can handle this? It can’t be comfortable for y?—”
He grumbled. “Quit babyin’ me, Bea. That ain’t who you are. Use me. Who the fuck gives a shit about comfort when there’s a goddess above them, gettin’ off and using their face to do it?”
“You don’t even know m—” He lapped at my clit and sucked it into his mouth, and the hoarse grunt that traveled up from the depths of my gut would’ve been embarrassing, but then he groaned and drank from my body again, and I began to grind my business all over his face.
When in Rome.
My skirt fell from my hands, and I gripped the couch cushion. The fabric pooled around Bax’s head and cut off my view of his eyes, but the darkness beneath seemed to help him concentrate. He fucked me with his mouth, just like he’d promised, using his chin and nose to rub. His hand sneaked beneath my skirt, and he slipped two fingers inside me.
Yes! Baby, it ain’t gonna take much more than that.
I rode him, and he moved his body to my rhythm, bending his good knee and humping air beneath me.
I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him, the wet suction of his mouth, his low moans, and his quickened breath suggesting that he quite liked what he was doing to me.
But it wasn’t enough.
I craved his cock deep inside, and I wanted to fuck him until we were drowning in a pool of sticky sweat.
Too far, Bea. This is just a little bit of fun. There will be no fucking. There will be no falling. There will be no nothing.
I increased my pace, chasing release now, and rode his mouth like it was the stiff ridge of a saddle’s pommel. The short hair above his lip scraped against my clit, and I felt my cum flowing down over his chin. The sound of his lips smacking and his tongue lavishing my body filled up the cabin. The only other noise I could hear was the quiet crackling of the fire.
I rolled my hips again and again in smooth strokes, but when he slipped another finger inside me and pumped, flicking at my clit with his tongue like he was trying to win a contest, my eyes fell shut and my body locked in place as hot pleasure rushed through me like wildfire.
When I lifted my skirt, he tried to erase the smile from his lips, but I caught it. I moved down to straddle his chest again and slid my hand between my legs, feeling how wet he’d made me, and I couldn’t help myself; I smiled too.
I dragged two fingers through the slick slowly and held them above Bax’s mouth. He opened for me, and I slipped them between his lips. Looking into my eyes, he sucked them clean and moaned. His eyes closed as he sucked harder, and I leaned down and kissed him, licking around my fingers, our saliva mixing with my cum. But then I pulled them out and slid my wet hand between us, reaching beneath his pants to return the favor he’d just given me.
He ate at my mouth like it was a melting ice cream cone and he didn’t want any of me to go to waste, and I dipped my hand below the waistband of his boxers, but what I found there was better than any ice cream I’d ever tasted.
“Did you have a little party in your PJs, Bax?” I asked, feeling extremely proud of myself for making him come without even touching his cock, but heat filled my cheeks as our eyes met again. No man had ever admitted to giving me that kind of power.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “just now, when you fed me your cum with your fingers.”
He chased after my mouth with his until I gave it to him again, and I released his softening hard-on. I got to my feet, letting my skirt fall to the dusty floor, and held my hands out for him. He took them as he dragged his tongue and teeth over his bottom lip, scraping and licking the remnants of my pleasure onto his tongue.
“For a dad, you have a downright filthy mouth,” I said. “I approve. And next time, I’ll make you come with mine.”
“Who’s your favorite football team?” I asked Bax as I settled next to him on the loveseat and tucked my bare feet under my butt.
He was still shirtless, and his chest and the dark-brown hair dusting it was so very distracting.
I covered us both with Athena’s fuzzy blanket, careful not to spill on it. My soup was still at tastebud-burning levels, but I blew on each spoonful before I fed it to him. He totally could’ve fed himself, but we were sharing a small bowl full of my butternut squash concoction, and it was more fun this way. He stared at my mouth every time I sucked the broth from the spoon.
“Wait. Are you comfortable?” I asked as he shifted on the cushion next to mine. His broken leg stuck out into the middle of the cabin’s tiny living room, and his good leg was bent at the knee and touching mine. Bax manspreading was kind of hot, and it wasn’t like I could blame him. He really did look uncomfortable.
“I haven’t been comfortable since I broke this fuckin’ leg. After surgery, they put me in a special brace ’cause I had stitches and they didn’t want to risk infection the first few days. But as soon as this cast was in place, I was miserable.
“And to answer your previous question, I have no idea. I don’t watch much football these days. Hockey’s where it’s at, and my favorite hockey team is whoever Mack Goddrick plays for. He’s magic on the ice. In one game, he got four teeth knocked out. Blood everywhere. They pulled him off the ice and took him to the locker room to make sure he was okay, but then he came back, and in, like, one minute, he scored on the guy who slapped that puck at his mouth. It was miraculous.
“When I started followin’ him, he played for Chicago, then he went to Dallas, and then Toronto. But I grew up around local hockey, so that’s what I really love to watch.”
“Ehhh,” I buzzed. “Wrong answer.”
“S’cuse me? What you got against Mack Goddrick?”
