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“Turn,” I say, spinning her around. I drag my teeth over her bare shoulder as I find the zipper and pull it down. “How do you smell so good after a day running around the city?”
“I don’t think it’s me,” she says, her voice breathy. “I think it’s the flowers. Look at them. They’re enormous.”
I glance up, grunting at the obscene display of fall blooms on the kitchen island, everything from pansies and asters to violets and pale pink roses, topped off by giant fake butterflies made of tissue paper and clay. It’s beautiful, unique, and expensive—all the things Angela values most—and appears to be a genuine effort at making amends.
The jaded voice In my head Instantly wonders what she’s up to, what kind of angle she’s working, but the rest of me is too eager to be with Sydney to worry about it now. Whatever Angela’s up to, figuring it out can wait until I’ve made love to the gorgeous woman turning in my arms.
I kiss my way down her throat, kneading her breasts in my hands as I go.
“Don’t you want to read the card?” she asks, her nails digging into the back of my neck as I suck her nipple into my mouth through her lace bra.
“No,” I say. “I have other priorities at the moment.” I drag my teeth over her sensitive skin, making her gasp.
“God, Gideon. How do you do that?”
“Do what, baby?” I ask.
“Make my head feel like it’s literally spinning?”
“I haven’t even gotten started yet.” I pull her dress down around her hips and push it the rest of the way to the floor. I kneel in front of her, leaning in to press my face against the front of her matching lace panties, inhaling the salty tang of her arousal. “Fuck, I missed the smell of you. Spread your legs, butterfly, let me show you how much.”
“No,” she says, surprising me. When I look up, she adds in a whisper, “It’s my turn. I want to put my mouth on you. I want to make you as crazy as you make me.”
“You do,” I promise. “And you don’t have to return any favors if you don’t want to. I love fucking you with my mouth, I promise. It’s not something I do because I’m expecting payback.”
She shakes her head, a bemused smile on her face. “I think you’re the only man in the world who would try to talk a woman out of giving him a blow job.”
“I just don’t want you to feel pressured. If you don’t enjoy blow jobs.”
“I don’t know if I enjoy them,” she says. “Why don’t we find out?” She reaches down, tugging at my arms until I’m on my feet before she guides me to lean against the couch.
“You’ve never?” I ask, my pulse racing faster as she reaches for the close of my pants, guiding the button through the hole.
She shakes her head. “No, but I understand how they work. I’ve just never been…inspired to try it myself before.” She hooks her thumbs around my boxer briefs and the back of my pants. “But I’m feeling very inspired now.” She tugs the fabric down around my thighs as she drops to her knees.
I bite my lip, balls dragging heavier between my legs as she wraps her fingers around my shaft, stroking me base to tip before guiding the already leaking head of my cock toward her mouth. Just as my burning skin is about to brush her lips, she pauses and looks up. “Any notes so far?” she asks, a teasing glitter in her blue eyes.
Deciding to give as good as I get, I hum thoughtfully, drawing out the moment for both of us. “You know, now that you mention it, why don’t you take your bra off? So I can see your pretty tits while your mouth is wrapped around me?”
“All right.” Holding my gaze, she releases my cock, setting it to bobbing between us as she sits back on her heels. She reaches behind her back, popping the clasp on her bra and drawing it slowly down her arms.
I suck in a breath as she bares her flushed nipples. “So beautiful.”
“You like me on my knees for you?” she asks, the husky note in her voice destroying me nearly as much as the way she grips my shaft again, with more confidence this time.
“I like you close to me,” I say honestly. “In any and every capacity. But yes, I like you on your knees, butterfly. Now suck me into your mouth like a good girl and show me how much you need me inside you.”
Her eyes take on that glassy, slightly intoxicated sheen they always do when we play this game, but it’s different this time. As she slips me between her lips, her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. She looks up at me, into me, all her walls down, and every piece of her beautiful heart on display.
The heart that’s clearly mine for the taking…
“Sydney,” I murmur as I thread my fingers into her silky hair and cup her jaw gently in my palm. “You destroy me.”
She suckles me deeper, her hands braced against my thighs. She pulls back and glides forward again, mimicking the slow, easy rhythm of our first time. It hits me all over again, how fucking grateful I am that I got to be her first, and how desperately I want to be her last.
She pauses at the tip of me this time, continuing to stroke my cock with one hand as she asks, “Is this okay? Any notes, sir?”
“Do you want notes, baby?” I brush my thumb gently over her soft cheek.
