Because I was complaining.
I gave him a nod, and he turned to go to the closet.
He was always in those damn suits.
I had no idea what a great ass he had hidden under there.
He picked out clothes, and I found myself folding up and shifting my legs off the side of the bed, leaving us only maybe ten inches of space between us.
He had no idea I’d moved until he turned, his whole body jerking at finding me sitting so close, my head level with his waist.
I saw the heat flare. I watched him try to bank it back down.
But I was already reaching out, hands on his hips, tugging until the tuck of his towel let loose.
His breath caught, and I watched as his cock went from semi to fully hard in the span of a couple of seconds.
“Alara…”
There was no real restraint in his voice, though.
And when I closed my hand around his length, his hips rocked into the sensation, chasing more of it.
I ducked, running my tongue across the head until his hand grabbed the side of my neck, fingers tight.
Only when I felt a shiver course through him did I lower down, taking him deep, dragging a low, ragged groan out of him.
I could feel the tension in him, the way his body was vibrating with his need for release.
I couldn’t imagine that his life over the past few years would have allowed for much time with a woman. He was probably much more hard-up than even I was, and I felt like I’d been crawling out of my skin just being near him.
So I didn’t try to tease him.
I just gave him the same quick sprint toward release he’d given me the night before.
Moving up and down, twisting, and cradling his balls until his breath was fast and frantic, until his hand slid from the side to the back of my neck, holding me against him as if I had any intentions of moving away.
His soft groans filled my ears as his hips started to thrust into my mouth, making me take him deeper, moving faster, as he got closer and closer to the edge.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his body tensing hard as he came.
I worked him through it, only pulling away when his hand slid back to my cheek, his thumb rubbing gently.
I glanced up at him, seeing that hazy post-orgasm contentedness, but only for a second before it was replaced with concern.
“Shit,” he said, his face twisting.
“What?” I asked.
His thumb slid to my lower lip, rubbing lightly. There was a sting that had me understanding before he pulled his hand back to show me the bead of blood.
I’d re-split my lip.
“It was worth it,” I said with a shrug.
He shot me a wicked little smirk at that. “I have to agree. But I’ll get you cleaned up.”
“Ah, Christopher?” I called when he turned to walk away.
