This time I’m ready for the moan that gets trapped in his throat, and I fight back the urge to let that sexy sound undo me.
Locked in a battle of wills, I pump my hips in rhythm to the moans my hand is pulling from his body. My vision clouds and my breathing becomes labored as the need to release grows painful, yet I don’t relent. Not until his hand finds my balls, and he starts rolling them around his fingers.
I love a little sac action when my dick is buried in a hole.
Knowing I’m about to break I tighten my grip, pumping furiously from root to tip. His contractions start almost immediately, thank God, because I’m done for too.
My cock erupts down his throat as his paints his chest, wave after wave of cum bursting from deep within. I wonder briefly if I should pull out before I choke him, but it feels too fucking good to have his throat contract around my dick. Besides, I figure he’ll shove me away if it’s too much.
He doesn’t.
When every last drop is spent I finally move, having only enough strength to flop onto the bed next to him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something about how fucking amazing that was—I’m pretty damn certain I’ve never come that hard, and definitely not from a blow job—but nothing I could say would do what I feel justice. Instead, I grunt, “Don’t even think about leaving yet. We’re not done here.”
Hours later, after another round of blow jobs, I have my first sleepover.
Chapter three
Lennon
The skin on my arm hums with warmth, though it’s not the even, cocoon-like heat of a blanket. It’s more concentrated. Heavier.
Curious, I shift my body into it, searching for an explanation to make sense of the foreign yet not unpleasant pressure.
Blinking my eyes into focus, I realize I’m not in my room, and there’s a large, warm body next to me. Its arm is draped over mine, hot breath kissing my shoulder. The evening comes rushing back as the steady beat in my chest turns erratic and my palms grow sweaty.
I spent the night.Shit!
“Morning,” a husky voice growls in my ear.
I hold myself eerily still. “What time is it?”
The bed shifts as my playboy looks at his watch. “Eight-thirty.”
I shoot up. “Fuck!” My eyes scour the room for my things. “I’m late for work.”
“You just got off a few hours ago, you’re due back already?” The mattress dips as he rolls to his back and stretches.
“Food delivery comes at nine.” I spot my clothes on the floor and jump out of bed to grab them. “Shit!” I hold my skirt out in front of me, debating the likelihood that I could get away with wearing it again.My genderless sense of fashion may not raise eyebrows anymore, but wearing the same thing two days in a row will.Why the hell did I stay over?“I don’t have time to go home, and I can’t go to work wearing yesterday’s clothes.”
“Why not?” He rubs a hand over the muscled chest I had my mouth on last night, drawing my eyes to that smooth, sculpted skin. My panic momentarily fades as images from the night flash through my mind like a movie reel, and it’s not until I forcibly shake myself out of my stupor that I remember the wrinkled fabric in my hand.Focus, Lennon.
“I’d prefer it if the whole town doesn’t see me do the walk of shame.” I shake the skirt at him for effect.
“You’re ashamed of craving my dick?” It’s at this moment I realize it’s poking up under the sheet as he lounges in bed.No wonder he was kissing on me. He’s ready for round…another round.I give myself two seconds to mourn the fact I didn’t—and won’t be—riding that beast before I get back to the task at hand.
“Why are you such a pig?” I search the floor for the briefs he never actually returned last night.
“Because it makes you hot.” He props himself on an elbow to watch me. “The raunchier I am, the harder you get.”
I cringe at his words, even though he's not wrong. “You think you know that after one night?” I keep my back to him so he can’t see the semi his words have awakened.
“Damn right I do." I can actually hear the grin in his answer. “Seriously, though, you’re a grown man. Why do you care if people know you stayed over?”
“I like to keep my affairs private.”
“Are we having an affair?” The glare I shoot him wipes the grin off his face. His arms shoot up in surrender. “Not a morning person, got it. Wear something of mine then.”
“That’s worse than wearing the same thing.” I fasten the skirt around my waist, having no other options.
