Page 52 of The Fall
He holds my hips in a bruising grip as he takes me into his mouth. I feel my cock head at the back of his throat, then feel the moment he relaxes and takes me deeper.
I taste copper on my tongue from biting down on every sound that wants to break loose. I glance down?—
Blair’s eyes flick up to meet mine, holding me pinned as he sinks further still, and I’m gone. The wet sounds he makes around my cock, the pressure of his thumbs digging into my hipbones, the sight of his lips stretched around me.
He pulls back to circle my head with his tongue, dipping into the slit to taste my precome. When he takes me deep again, he drapes my thigh over his shoulder, spreading me open. His hands slide beneath me to cup my ass, kneading the muscle and pulling me deeper into his mouth.
The deeper he takes me, the more my stomach coils like a spring wound past bearing. Every drag of his tongue, every squeeze of his fingers on my ass?—
God, he’s savoring this, relishing how I come undone beneath his mouth. The room smells dense with sweat and musk, the air thick enough to choke on, and all I can do is arch into him, giving him every desperate inch of me.
Blair drinks me down like he has all the time in the world, like this is the only thing that matters.
Then he shifts. The mattress dips as he reaches for the nightstand, and I hear the snap of a cap and the slick sound of lube. He strokes my cock once, twice, coating it, then his fingers slide lower, past my balls.
The first touch of his slicked finger against my hole makes me gasp. He circles me slowly as his mouth returns to my cock, and his thumb breaches me as his mouth sinks down my length.
Oh—
The pressure punches the breath from me.
It’s too much and not enough, the split-second burn giving way to a shocked pleasure that radiates through me. My muscles clamp down, resisting the intrusion even as my body begs for more. Blair works his thumb deeper, the slow drag a filthy counterpoint to the wet heat of his mouth taking me down to the root again.
I’m strung tight between his mouth and his hand, suspended in the torturous push-pull of pleasure. Every shallow thrust of his thumb sends sparks skittering under my skin. All I can do is let him take, let him ruin me.
Then his thumb withdraws and a finger replaces it, pushing inside me. The stretch burns—sharp, blinding—before dissolving into liquid gold spreading through my veins.
The world fractures around that single point of contact. My hips jerk off the mattress, writhing between the unrelenting pressure of his finger and the velvet suction of his mouth.
He crooks his finger and stars explode behind my eyelids. A broken whine escapes me, and I choke on whatever ragged plea was climbing up my throat.
He swallows, lips sealed tight as he pulls up only to plunge down again, hollowing his cheeks. His rhythm never falters; every drag of his mouth matches the drive of his finger. Stars still burn behind my clenched eyelids when he finally withdraws his mouth with a wet sound, leaving me gasping. His breath ghosts over my skin as he drops a kiss to the inside of my trembling thigh.
I force my eyes open and see him watching me, his gaze dark, his lips glistening. A shudder wracks me.
His finger crooks again.
I stop breathing.
He swallows me to the root again as he works two fingers, then three, inside me, and the dual sensation has me babbling nonsense. The stretch is more now, a fullness that borders on too much but still isn’t enough. I reach for him blindly, tugging at his hair until he releases my cock with an obscene pop and surges up to kiss me.
He’s still finger-fucking me as his tongue invades my mouth.
I taste myself on his tongue as he rolls his hips, his cock dragging alongside mine in a slick glide that leaves us both shivering. I dig my nails into his shoulders, clinging to him as my hips rock between the friction of his cock and the invasion of his fingers.
“More,” I gasp. The wet sounds of his fingers working in and out of me, the ragged catch in his breathing, the filthy grind of our cocks sliding together— I needmore.
He twists his fingers, and I cry out. The pleasure spikes so sharply it’s almost pain before melting into something deeper and darker. He captures my mouth again, biting my lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. His eyes are almost black in the dim light, pupils blown wide as he watches me unravel.
“Yes,” I pant, rocking onto his hand. “Yes, right there.” The pressure of his fingers has me babbling, begging.
My mouth falls open as he speeds up. All I can manage are broken, hitching breaths. “Feels—” The word breaks apart in my mouth as he presses harder, rubbing relentlessly against that bundle of nerves.
He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Say it.” His voice is sandpaper-rough.
I can’t form words, can only moan as his fingers work inside me, as his cock slides against mine, as the pressure builds tounbearable heights within me. I’m so close, teetering on the edge?—
His teeth graze the pulse point on my throat. “Say my name when you come.”
