“I’m—fuck Rowan…oh Gods.”
“Not yet,” he said, then bit my other cheek gently and stood up.
I turned around in his arms. “Who’s the tease now?”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I promised a blow job. Don’t make me a liar by coming too early.”
“Oh it’s my fault your tongue is thicker than an average cock, huh?”
He snorted a laugh and nipped at my jaw, then kissed the spot and my lips. “Fuck, I’m glad you’re feeling well now. Resisting you was a challenge.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” I’d been game with gentle fooling around the day we’d come home from hospital. Then again, I hadn’t been in the mood when hurting and on pain meds. Rowan had understood that better than I had.
“I know.” He took me by the hips and sat me on the counter like a rag doll. “You didn’t have to.”
I parted my legs, inviting him in.
He sucked on my clavicle then teased my pierced nipples one by one, growling low as he flicked them with his tongue. Could I come from nipple stimulation only? With how Rowan was doing it, I believed it possible.
Kneeling wasn’t enough—he was so tall he was kissing my belly button when on his knees. He sat on his heels and put my legs over his shoulders, placing kisses on my inner thighs. He was making me crazy, and I was ready to lose my mind.
He licked his lips with his obscenely skilled tongue, then lapped the precome dripping from my cock. Moaning, he took the head into his mouth and treated it as if it were an icicle on the hottest day of the year.
“Rowan, oh gods, your mouth is heaven. Fuck.” I held onto the edge of the counter, but my grip was slipping. “I’m so close.” Grappling, I bumped the mug I’d prepared for Rowan. “Wait. Stop.”
Rowan did, pausing immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I want to give you something special.” I took my cock in one hand and the mug with Rowan’s coffee in the other.
His eyes went wide, then hooded with the same sexy glint he had when my dick had been down his throat. Rowan caressed my thighs and nodded.
With a few strokes, I was at the brink and shot a load into the coffee.
“One more, please,” Rowan said in a low, growly voice.
On a groan, I obliged, filling his mug to the brim. Panting, I handed it to Rowan.
“Your coffee à la cum, sir.”
“Thank you.” Rowan stirred it with a spoon from the counter and took a sip. “Mmm, my new favorite.” He met my gaze and drank more.
I hopped off the countertop and guided him to lay back on the floor, propped on one hand. His boxers were offending me, and frankly, his dick was having none of it either, tenting the poor fabric that was fighting for dear life. I pulled Rowan’s underwear down his thick, hairy legs and straddled them.
“But your head—”
I shushed him with a finger on his lips. “I won’t use it. Or my mouth. Enjoy your coffee and let me deal with this gorgeous monster.” I slid the finger down his neck, chest, and to his cock where I scooped precum from the tip and sucked the digit into my mouth.
For my plan to work, his dick needed lubrication. Smacking my lips, I tapped my chin, then reached into the lower cabinet next to me and pulled out a medium-sized jar. With deliberately slow movements, I unscrewed the lid and gathered a healthy amount of thick coconut oil on my fingers. Rowan’s hard-on twitched when I touched it, so I treated it with the reverence a deprived cock deserved, spreading the oil along the shaft, head, and down to Rowan’s sac.
Rowan rumbled low throughout the process, the encouraging sound filling the kitchen.
I shimmied down his body and parted his legs, sitting on the floor between them, still facing him.
With a smirk, I pulled off my socks and threw them at his chest one by one. “You enjoyed massaging my feet. You like them.”
Rowan’s gaze darkened, and he took a sip of his jizzed coffee. “I do.”
I ran a foot up his thigh to his precum and coconut oil-smeared cock, up the ridges on the underside of it, and traced the head with my big toe.
