I’m in deep, deeper than I’ve ever been, and there’s no turning back. I don’t want to. I tug, my voice low and unsteady as I ask, “This okay?”
“Please.”
That single word, laced with desperation, ignites me.
His breath catches again, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet room, and I’m hyper-aware of every shift, every shudder, as I peel his briefs away.
He’s hard, flushed, and so damn perfect. A bead of precome glistens at the tip, and I spread it across his head. He grabs the sheet, knuckles white.
I drop a soft kiss at the base of his cock, inhaling the musky scent of his skin. My lips trail upward, tasting the salt and warmth of him as I go. His thighs tense, trembling.
“Blair…”
His name feels like a confession, a plea. I flick my tongue against him, teasing. He arches off the bed, a gasp ripping from him.
I hold his gaze as I take him in, savoring the bitter-salt taste of him. I’ve wanted this for so long, dreamed about it, and now he’s here. I pull back, swirling my tongue around the head before sinking down again.
The taste of him, his cock on my tongue, the way his thighs tremble beneath my palms—It’s all exactly as I remembered and shatteringly new at the same time. I take him in, in, in, until my nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock.
“Your mouth—Fuck?—”
I grip the base of his cock, steadying him, steadying myself. I want to make this good for him, want to take my time, want to worship every inch of him. I hollow my cheeks as I suck, and he whimpers, a sound I’ve never heard from him before, a sound I want to hear again and again.
I want this moment burned into memory forever: Blair beneath me, naked, wanting, gazing up at me open and bare, his eyes thrown open to reveal the still, deep waters at the base of his soul. I’m lost in it, in him, and I don’t ever want to be found.
He fights to keep still, to not thrust up into my mouth. His quads flex and fire, the muscles jumping, and his heels dig intothe mattress at my hips. He groans, low and rough-edged, when my tongue swirls slow circles at his tip before sliding down to his root again.
His noises turn sharper, less controlled. It feels so natural I have to remind myself this is the first time.
Every sound he makes goes straight to the hungry part of me that’s starved for him. His cock leaves a trail of lightning across my tongue and down my throat. He’s shaking apart, and I’m vowing my love with every suck and stroke of my tongue, imprinting my devotion as I swallow and swirl.I will give you everything.
He pants. “I—I can’t?—”
“Stop,” he finally gasps. “I don’t want to come yet.” Every muscle in his body is strung tight as wire.
His groan turns into a gasp when I crawl back up his body and seal our mouths together, letting him taste himself on my tongue while I grind against him shamelessly.
He mouths down to my sternum, dropping slow kisses in a line along bone and muscle. My breath stutters, and he rolls us again so he’s over me, knees bracketing my thighs. His lips are hot on me, his tongue tracing a hot line from my neck to collarbone. Breathing is impossible; there’s no oxygen left in this room, between us, around him. He has burned it all away.
He drops a kiss above my heart, then starts a slow crawl down my body, trailing kisses and nibbles and soft, sucking bruises down my belly and my hips. He kneels between my legs, and his hands push gently at my knees until they fall open for him. He leaves a line of open-mouthed kisses along the crease where my thigh meets my hip, moving closer to my cock.
“I’ve thought about this,” he confesses, looking up at me through his lashes. “About you like this.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “So many times.”
He never breaks eye contact, not once, as the tip of his tongue traces the vein running along the underside of my cock before flattening out and licking up my shaft. Then?—
The first brush of his lips is ecstasy: soft pressure, heat, so much heat, and,oh?—
I arch off the bed. A moan rips from me. He takes me in inch by inch until I’m buried in his mouth. Warmth envelopes me, slick and impossibly soft.
I fight to keep my eyes open, to watch him. His dark hair falls forward as he moves, and I reach down with my free hand to brush it back, needing to see his face. He hums against me, the vibration shooting up my spine.
“God, Blair,” I breathe out, my voice breaking on his name.
He pulls off for a moment. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I gasp.