Page 336 of Branded
And I would.
Starting with giving the man I liked beyond measure the best blow job of his life—which was something, I had to face it, I didn’t exactly have the skills for. I’d only been with a couple of people before Nate and that experience had consisted mostly of fumbling and bumbling and them blowing their loads after a couple of licks. Nate had been more confident, more demanding, but he’d been more of the yank at my hair and fuck my mouth until I gagged variety.
Neither was particularly pleasant.
But, luckily for me—and him, I supposed—I read a lot of romance novels. And repeat, I read a lot of dirty romance novels. As thus, I would approach this with enthusiasm and my brainful of fellatio knowledge from my dirty books, and hopefully Cas would like what I did.
Stroking up, I bobbed my head down, flicked out my tongue.
A tight grip.
Plenty of suction.
Taking him as deep as I could.
And Cas liked it, if the curses tumbling out of his mouth, if the sweat sheeting his body, if the way his muscles were flexing and his cock was growing even harder, straining at my lips was any indication.
Because I didn’t get a lot of time down there.
Maybe two minutes. Tops.
Then his hands were under my armpits, and I was beneath him again and he froze?—
“Fuck,” he hissed. “I don’t have a condom.”
“Top drawer,” I whispered, having made a promise to myself after Ethan that I would always have protection on hand.
His hand shook as he jerked open the drawer, pulled out the box I’d never opened.
Then he was tearing the cardboard, ripping one square off from the string of condoms, and using his teeth to open it.
A moment after that, he was rolling it down his cock.
And then he was between my thighs. “Hurry,” I whispered, trembling as he spread my legs.
“Are—”
“Hurry, Cas.”
Then he was pressing home and—oh my, that was fucking good. He stretched me wide, hit all the spots deep inside me.
“Tight,” he grunted, slowly working himself in, his chest coming over mine, his forearms braced on either side of my head.
My breath caught as he bottomed out. “It’s—ah—been a while. Not since Ethan—” My words cut off when he reached beneath me, wrapping my leg around his waist, changing the angle and—oh yes, that was somehow even better. Better enough that my explanation was forgotten, that I stopped thinking, my brain short-circuiting further when he pulled out and slowly slid back in.
And did it again.
And again.
And—
That was when I started talking.
No. That was when I started giving him orders.
“Harder.”
“Faster.”
