Page 60 of Whirlwind
“Can I try something, first?” She nibbles her lip, her fingers doing that nervous tensing that’s always her first tell.
“Sure,” I say.
She immediately slides off the bed and kneels at my feet.
“You don’t have to do that, Kit.”
“Are you saying no? Or are you saying that for my benefit?” she asks, tilting her head.
“I’m fully consenting,” I clarify. “To whatever you want to do to or with me. I’m…adventurous in bed. But I don’t want you thinking anything is expected—especially something that won’t bring you the same amount of pleasure it’ll bring me.”
“How do I know it won’t bring me pleasure if I don’t try it?”
“Okay,” I say. “That’s a fair point. But I can guarantee it won’t beasgood for you as it will for me.”
“Okay,” she mimics. “You probably never go down on a woman, then, right? Because that can’t be as good for you as it is for her.”
Well, damn.
“Your brain is even sexier than your body—and that’s saying something, because you’re hot as fuck,” I tell her, pointing down at her.
“Thank you,” she preens. “Now, let me do what I want before all this conversation kills the mood.”
“By all means, proceed,” I say, trying not to laugh. I’ve had fun sex before—plenty of it—but never like this. Never where the talking itself was so…mood-enhancing. Kit couldn’t turn me off if she actively tried.
Her fingertips trail up my cock—soft, tentative. At the tip, she rubs around it, familiarizing herself.
I might die. Right here. Right now.
This will be what takes me out.
I hold still, though it takes every ounce of willpower. I can’t stop the involuntary twitch of my muscles or the precum that escapes—which only seems to fascinate her. She drags her thumb through it, wetting it, then sucks her thumb into her mouth. I groan.
“It doesn’t taste like I thought it would,” she murmurs, almost to herself. Then, her gaze locks on mine. “I like it.”
Fuck. My. Life.
Her head dips, stopping less than an inch away. A small puff of air escapes her before she licks the full length of my cock—base to tip.
“Fucking hell, Kit.”
“Good or bad?”
“So damn good.” She traces the motion again, and this time, when she reaches the tip, she wraps her mouth around it. The hum she makes almost robs me of all control—I nearly thrust forward.
“Jesus, Kit. I’m trying really hard, here.”
She snorts softly and takes me deeper. After a few fumbles, she finds her rhythm with shallow bobs, then gradually pushes a little farther, a little deeper. My hands lock behind my head, every muscle tight as I fight to keep from spilling down her throat. My stamina tonight is non-fucking-existent.
Then, she hums again.
“Kit, I can’t hold off,” I warn, trying to pull back. She chases me, making a disapproving sound before sucking harder. There’s no holding back, now—the first spurt escapes. Aside from a slight jerk of surprise, she doesn’t flinch. She swallows the next, then pulls back just enough for the rest to paint her chest in hot ribbons.
I’m spellbound, watching her smear my release across her skin. When I’m spent, she licks my tip clean.
Pretty sure I just fell in love with Kit Ashcroft.
I shake the thought away. There are a million reasons to fall for Kit—her fascination with blowjobs ranks low on the list.
