He stepped forward, his warm breath tickling the nape of my neck. His fingers ran along the length of my spine, tracing the curve of my shoulders and down my back. He paused at the base of my spine, sending a shiver through me.
“Stay still,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm my racing pulse.
My breath caught in my throat as I felt the cool fabric being tied securely behind my head. The darkness enveloped me, blocking my vision. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing and the occasional rustle of fabric as Cole moved around me.
His hands trailed lightly across my shoulders, down my arms, and back up again. I shivered and sighed, tension coiling taut inside of me.
“Do you remember what I taught you about non-verbal safe words, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I said, thoughts going back to that night on the rooftop, surrounded by mountains of blankets and drunk on wine and love for him. I remembered that I was meant to draw an X on his thigh if I needed to stop.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Are you ready?”
“Mm,” I said.
“Open up.”
I opened my mouth wide, preparing for what would follow. My vision was completely blocked out by the makeshift blindfold. He let me wait for a few long moments before something finally broached my lips: his thumb, pressing down against my tongue.
He withdrew it, placing both his index and middle finger in my mouth in its place. I suckled on his fingers as he pressed them deeper into the back of my mouth until they encroached on the opening of my throat.
“You look delectable, sitting and waiting for me like this,” he purred. His hand retreated again, and I was once again left in the dark and silence as I waited for what came next.
After a moment, he combed his fingers into my hair and pulled slightly, the tension on my scalp a delicious sensation. He held me fast, his other hand going to my shoulder and stabilizing me. My heart racing, I opened my mouth more, letting my tongue perch on the edge of my lower lip.
“You are impeccable, Marley. Keep open just like that,” Cole said, his voice husky with desire.
A few seconds later, I felt the silken skin of his swollen cock slide against the tip of my tongue. I tasted the faintly salty sweetness of the bead of moisture that had gathered right at the tip. I heard the rough sound of Cole sighing as he slowly pushed further in.
I parted my lips, allowing his cock to slide easily into my mouth. As I took him in, his other hand moved from my shoulder to cup the back of my head right where my nape met the base of my skull, encouraging me to shift the angle of my head so he could slide in even deeper.
I was so full, and the soft texture of his pubic hair brushed against my nose. I placed my hands on his thighs just as they contracted, and he pressed in more. Beneath the blindfold, my lashes fluttered. Feeling him fuck the back of my throat was pure ecstasy, and the slow tempo was like enjoying a well-aged whiskey. The taste of it lingered on the tongue, savored over time, every sip bringing forth new layers of flavor. It was the same with our lovemaking. Cole was patient, taking his time, exploring every inch of my mouth while I acquainted myself with the ridges and textures of his flawless cock.
He started to move, his hands still holding my head in place as he pulled slowly away from the opening of my throat, drawing out almost all the way to my lips before pushing back in again fully.
I was in heaven. The deprivation of my sense of sight made it so I could focus on every sensation going on between my lips. I found myself becoming more adventurous, swirling my tongue around him and dragging my teeth over his flesh, delighting in the way he gasped and thrust his hips into me, taking more of my mouth. Things became messy as he started to move with reckless abandon, losing control to how I was making him feel.
My hands remained on his thighs, clutching at him as my nails dug into his skin. With each thrust, I gasped, feeling the depths of my throat stretched by the intensity of the action. The sounds he made were primal, a mix of pain and pleasure, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was the one responsible for them.
The room filled with the scents of sweat and sex. Each movement caused a cascade of sensations to travel through my body, leaving me trembling. I wrapped my hands around his ass, feeling the muscles shift beneath my palms. He groaned and moved faster, rocking into me with increasing force. He pulled out slightly and then thrust back in, driving deep.
My legs started to quiver, the pressure building within me, wanting release. I increased the pace of my strokes, matching his rhythm and urging him on.
Cole cried out, gripping my head tightly as he came undone. He held me there, his grip strong but tender as his hot seed pulsed deep within my throat. I took him in one last time, milking the final drops from him, feeling his cock twitch as he tried to hold on to his climax.
Without releasing my head, he pulled out, and I gasped for breath. His panting slowed as he recovered. The space between my legs felt woefully empty, and I found myself sliding my fingers into the moisture between my thighs.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” Cole asked.
His question wasn’t a demand, and it wasn’t cruel. He meant to engage my reflection rather than shy away from my behavior.
“Did you think I would let you go to sleep without rewarding you for what you can do with that beautiful mouth of yours?” he asked.
“I just thought...since you finished...” I said.
“Oh, I am not finished, sweetheart. Not remotely.”