Page 95 of The One I Hate
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” I give his dick one more stroke. “I want to.”
Words I never thought I’d say, but I fully mean at this moment. Especially when I slowly lick his cock from root to tip and hear the guttural moan come from his mouth.
I slowly take him in, opening as wide as I can to accommodate his thickness. I slowly start going up and down, letting my tongue trail as my mouth works him the best I know how.
“That’s my fucking girl,” he says, gathering my hair in his hands. “You can take it.”
Why did those few words suddenly make me want to give the best blowjob in the history of blow jobs?
It was also at this moment I realized I have a praise kink.
I double down my efforts, wanting nothing more than to drive this man wild and to give him every ounce of pleasure I can. I’m a woman on a mission—licking, sucking, and stroking, all in the name of bringing this man to his knees.
Just when I’m getting in a groove, though, Simon pulls me away and has me on my back in a matter of seconds.
“What’s the matter? Did I?—”
Simon kisses the words out of my mouth. “Oh, nothing is the matter. In fact, that was good. Too good.”
“Then why did you stop?”
Simon lifts one leg up, giving him all the access he wants to line his cock to my entrance.
“Because, Bug. You come first. Always.”
My only reply is the yelp I let out as Simon pushes into me. Holy shit, he’s fucking huge. It’s like I can feel him everywhere.
I remember this from last time, but I also thought that I was imagining how full it felt. I mean, I was drunk, and the adrenaline of the night was making me do crazy things.
Except now I know I wasn’t imagining. If anything, I wasn’t remembering enough. Because of the feel of him dragging out of me, only to push back in, is hitting every nerve.
Every. Single. Nerve.
“More, Simon. I need more.”
He doesn’t make me ask twice. Instead, he brings my other leg under his arm before lifting both of them to his shoulders.
Holy shit, I didn’t know my legs went that high. Or straight. Or…Oh…Oh!
Simon’s pace is picking up, and I don’t know what spot he is hitting, but it’s one that I didn’t know existed until right now.
“Yes!” I yell, seeing the release in the distance, but not knowing how to get there. “So close.”
“Touch yourself.” I look up to Simon, wondering if I heard what I think I just heard. His face is serious, and his gaze is burning into me again.
He said it. And he was serious.
“Touch yourself. Don’t be shy. Do it for me.”
I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. Yet, something in me knows that I want to touch my clit.
So I do. I rub circles around the swollen bud, and holy shit…he was right. It feels good. So good. The tandem of me and him is something I never knew could be felt.
“Good girl. Now come for me.”
