I lick my lips nervously, pulling the bottom one through my teeth. He looks down for a beat, noticing, then captures my eyes again.
His fingers work the button on his pants, slowly pushing the zipper open. They drop to the floor and he steps out, kicking them to the side.
“Come here.” His voice cracks.
Swallowing again, I walk toward him, stopping a couple feet away.
“Kneel.”
I do as he says, settling on the floor between his braced feet. When I look up, his lips part. His breaths are shorter than before.
“Now take out my cock.”
I blink, knowing I heard right but hoping I didn’t.
“Take it out, Pfeiffer.” My name rolls off his tongue like he’s savoring it.
With trembling fingers I reach up to the black boxer shorts he’s wearing. They fit snugly around his hips and thighs, and there’s a huge bulge at the front that he’s demanding I handle.
My throat is so dry I might choke. I’ve never put my mouth around a penis before, let alone one belonging to a mafia boss whose feelings toward me appear to be mixed at best.
My fingertips hook over the waistband and he sucks in a sharp breath. I stare at the fabric, watching it bunch as I pull it down. It snags on the bulge and I have to pull it toward me to release his cock.
As soon as I do, it bobs up, the dark skin of it straining under the forced blood flow.
Dear God.I can’t help but stare at it.
Suddenly, my mouth isn’t dry anymore and the area between my legs is humming. It takes a few moments before I snap my gaze back to his. Then I wish I hadn’t.
He looksraging. His molars grind, his nostrils flare, and his chest is braced so hard I worry it might combust. In the corner of my eye his hands are bunched into tight fists and for a second I wonder if he’s going to hit me.
“Put your hands on me,” he grits out. “Stroke me.”
Blinking rapidly, I let his boxers fall to the floor and reach up again to wrap a hand around his cock. I’m surprised at how hot it is. How firm yet silky at the same time.
I start at the base, feeling the tickle of his hairs against my pinkie, then stroke him slowly to the tip. The crown shines with a kind of desperation, and a small pearl of liquid forms as I stare at it, mesmerized.
Without thinking, I stroke my thumb over the tip, catching the pearl like a rain drop. I bring my thumb up to my face,watching as the liquid catches the light. Then, without thinking, I flick out my tongue to taste it.
A tight, terrifying noise vibrates inside his chest and we lock eyes as I swirl the salty taste around my mouth.
“You licked my come,” he rasps.
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“Do it again. Stroke me. Lick me.” His voice is so low and broken, it takes a few seconds of pause for his words to form in my brain. Or maybe my own lust is too dizzying.
Whatever the reason, I don’t think; I justdo.
I stroke my hand down his length then back up again. Another pearl forms and instead of licking it into my mouth, I wrap my lips around the head and softly suck.
A growl touches the crown of my head and when I glance up, his cock still in my mouth, his teeth are bared.
“God, I want totouchyou,” he rasps, gutturally.
I pull my mouth free to reply. “No hands,” I whisper. And I still mean it. As much as he brought me pleasure with his tongue, I can’t bear the thought of a man’s hands on my skin. It will take me right back to those dark years.
Why would he want to put his hands on me anyway, if not to bring me pleasure? And he stated only moments ago that tonight is about him.
