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Big enough to hurt.
“Oh Lord,” I say, and he laughs, taking his length in his hand.
“Don’t lie to me, E. You want it. And I want it in the back of your throat.”
His turn to issue a challenge. He looks at me for a beat, eyes flashing.
“Knees,” he repeats, taking a step back. Dick still in his hand.
I sit up. Look at him. Letting my legs fall open. Part of me wants to ask him to fuck me.
But part of me wants to bring him to his knees by sucking his dick just the way he likes it. Ford liked giving head, and he loved getting it, too.
Granted, what guy doesn’t?
That being said, Ford’s oral kink was nothing to scoff at. He loved to draw our encounters out. We had lots of time back then.
Eyes locked on his—pussy still throbbing—I do what he asks. I climb off the platform and fall to one knee, then the other, so that I’m kneeling in front of him. The rough carpet biting into my knees.
He lets his dick go, and I reach for it, wrapping my fingers around him.
I draw my hand up his length, my grip firm.
“Can’t—” he says, ducking down. “Eva, my God.”
He’s losing his shit, and I can’t help but smile.
A smile he covers with his mouth while he takes my tit in his hand and rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Drawing me up to him. Growling when my tongue meets his.
I pull back, putting a hand on his belly. The hair of his happy trail feels wiry and warm against my palm.
“You said you wanted to learn.” I lean in and take the head of his cock into my mouth. Slowly, using my tongue and lips to get it nice and wet. Then I release it. “Take notes.”
Keeping my eyes on his, I take him into my mouth again. He tastes like salt and skin. Ocean, clean air. Him.
My mouth fills with saliva the deeper I take him. I work the base of his shaft with my hand as I swallow him. Curling my lips over my teeth to keep them from nicking his skin.
Inhaling, I duck my head, swallowing him further until he hits the back of my throat. He grunts; my eyes water. His hand goes to my hair, fingers tangling in it.
“Can I?” he breathes. “Go deeper?”
This was a fun game we’d play. One of the parts of edging I liked so much—exploring my limits. I liked to push the envelope. See how lewd and intense I could make it before I hit a threshold. The game worked because I could trust Ford.
I know I can trust him now.
Eyes on his, I nod.
Firming his grip in my hair—just a little frisson of pain, I like it—he flexes his hips, going even deeper.
I gag, making a tiny sucking noise, and a tear slips out of my eye. He’s deep.
Immediately Ford pulls back, but I grab his ass cheeks and guide him back in.
This is lust.
This I can do.
I am determined to do it well.
“Eva, Eva, fuck,” he says. “Baby, yes.”
I bob my head, making him glide in and out. He starts to circle his hips, tiny little movements that coincide with mine. We settle into a rhythm, his cock sliding down my throat, back up, down again. Saliva and precum everywhere, on my lips and chin.
The ocean sighs around us. My pussy throbs, orgasm nearing. Nipples scream as they scrape against Ford’s thighs. He’s big and strong and he is at my mercy.
I give him slow, messy head.
It’s so hot—Ford is breathing in hot spurts, brow furrowed, his fingers tangled in my hair, gripping me possessively—
“Fuck me,” he groans. He pulls out of my mouth, groaning again. Nods at the platform. “Hands and knees, baby. I’m gonna finish you off.”
“You really like to look at pussy.”
“Yours. Only yours. Do as I say. I’m—Christ, Eva, I’m dying here.”
I climb onto the platform facing away from him, spreading my legs. He doesn’t hesitate.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him put his mouth on me, wild and hot and impatient.
He is wild. Out in the open for all to see.
His forearm moves against the back of my thigh as he jacks himself off while keeping his mouth on my pussy. I’m moaning now. What he’s doing is so lewd. So hot. So him.
Need spirals low in my core. Twisting tighter and tighter, the pain edged with sweetness.
“Ford,” I breathe. “I’m—”
But I come too hard, too fast to finish my sentence. My orgasm pounds through me, making me cry out. My legs tremble against the force of it. I feel weak and wanton, totally at this man’s mercy.
Two heartbeats later, Ford comes with a roar—so loud it echoes—all over my back, collapsing on top of me. I love the feel of his body tucked around mine. The strong planes of his chest pressed to my back, enormous arms wrapped around my middle as we struggle to catch our breath.
