My hand slides up her thigh, slipping beneath the hem of her shorts. She trembles when my fingers trace circles higher, closer, teasing where she’s hottest.
“We should go inside,” I manage, though my hands betray me, tugging her shorts down her hips.
“Not yet,” she gasps, fumbling at my zipper. “Now it's time foryourreward for your hard day. Lennon got the movie, now you get a blow job.”
Her hand closes around me, freeing me, stroking slowly. I press my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard, my control fraying with every pull of her hand, every soft sound spilling from her lips.
Her hands are pushing my pants down before I can stop her. Hell, I don’t even try. The sound of the fabric pulling against my skin is drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears.
“You've been a very good boy.”
The words nearly undo me. The night air licks coolly against my skin, but her hand is warm, wrapping around me, stroking slowly.
“Christ,” I grit out, my head dropping back against the blanket. The stars spin above me, unreal. None of them compare to her carefully removing my pants and the wind against my naked body.
She drags her mouth across my stomach, leaving my skin damp and burning in her wake. Her hair fans across my chest, tickling as she lowers herself between my thighs. She’s flat on her stomach now, stretched out below me, and the heat of her body on my legs sears my skin.
She licks from my belly button down until she buries her face between my legs. Her tongue slides up my length, deliberate and teasing, until her mouth closes over the head, sucking and teasing.
Heat sears through me. My fists curl in the blanket, every muscle straining to keep still.
“Fuck, Sloane…” My voice is rough and broken as I struggle to keep my voice down.
Her hand closes around me, stroking once, twice, before her mouth slides back over the head. My jaw locks, teeth grinding as her lips seal tight and she drags down my length.
She takes more of me, cheeks hollowing, lips stretched around my cock. The wet sound of her sucking fills the night, obscene against the backdrop of the silence except for nature.
Every flick of her tongue jerks a groan out of me, my hips straining up against her mouth before I can stop myself. Control slips with every wet pull, shredding one stroke at a time.
Her lashes flutter against her cheeks, her mouth full of me, her hair spilling like silk over my stomach. She moans, the sound muffled around my cock, and the vibration tears a groan straight out of my chest. My hips jerk before I can hold them down, forcing me deeper into her throat.
She gags slightly but doesn't stop.
I fist her hair, not to guide her, but to keep myself from losing it. She hums again, louder this time, like she’s savoring the way I throb against her tongue.
“Goddamn, you’re killing me,” I rasp. My thighs tense, muscles twitching, every instinct screaming to fuck her mouth, to take what she’s giving me.
She pulls back just enough to swirl her tongue around the head, messy and wet, saliva slicking her hand as she twists it at the base. Then she sinks down again, slow at first, then deeper, throat stretching, lips straining, until I feel the back of her throat clamp around me.
“Christ—” My vision blurs, stars sparking at the edges.
She doesn’t stop. Won’t stop. Her mouth works me harder, faster, her fist stroking in rhythm at the base, her moans growing ragged like she can’t help herself. Spit slides down my shaft, dripping onto my stomach, filthy and hot.
My grip tightens in her hair, my hips bucking despite myself. She takes it, takes all of it, swallowing me down like she owns me.
“Close,” I grit out, every muscle locking tight. “Sloane, I’m?—”
She groans low in her throat, swallowing me deeper, and that’s it. Control snaps. My hips drive up hard, burying me in her mouth as I spill down her throat.
White heat rips through me, my whole body bowing off the blanket as curses tear out of me, broken and guttural.
She doesn’t pull back. She swallows, every last drop, her throat working around me, and the sight nearly ends me all over again.
When I finally collapse against the blanket, lungs heaving, she lifts her head, lips swollen, and her chin slick.
She swipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes gleaming in the lantern light.
“Holy fuck,” I manage, my voice wrecked.