“Yes,” I whimpered, my hips rolling helplessly against his face.
“Then come.” His voice was a dark command. “Let me feel it. Show me you’re still mine.”
The combination of his words, his fingers, his mouth was too much. The orgasm ripped through me, violent and consuming, tearing a raw, screaming cry from my lungs. My body convulsed, clenching rhythmically around his fingers as he kept his mouth on me, drinking down every shudder, every pulse, until I was a trembling, oversensitive mess.
He gentled his touch, lapping softly as I came down, his fingers still moving inside me with a deep, possessive rhythm. He kissed my inner thigh, then looked up at me, his chin wet, his eyes blazing with triumph and heat.
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice wrecked. “Fucking beautiful.”
He crawled back up my body, his weight settling over me again. He was still fully dressed from the waist down, the hard ridge of his erection a blatant, urgent pressure against my thigh.He kissed me, deep and filthy, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
The kiss was a claiming. It was dirty and perfect.
When he pulled back, he was breathing hard.
Before I could process what he was doing, he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him until I was straddling his hips. He looked up at me, his hands settling on my waist. “Take what you need.”
I understood. My own need was a sharp, renewed ache between my thighs. I shifted, my hands going to the button of his jeans. My fingers trembled, but I got them open, then dragged the zipper down. He lifted his hips, helping me shove his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free him.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head already flushed and wet. My mouth watered. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him once, twice, feeling him jump in my grip.
“Fuck, Aura,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.
I leaned down, my braids brushing his stomach, and took him into my mouth.
The taste of him—salt, skin, pure male heat—flooded my senses. I moaned around him, the sound vibrating along his length, and his hips jerked off the bed.
“Oh, fuck yeah—suck me,” he hissed, his hands coming up to cradle my head, not forcing, just holding.
I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, using my tongue to press along the sensitive vein on the underside. I remembered what he liked. The slow, deep sucks followed by a tight swirl of my tongue around the head. The way he loved it when I looked up at him through my lashes.
I did it now, pulling back until just the head was in my mouth, sucking hard as my eyes met his.
His gaze was locked on me, dark and hooded, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked. “Look at you,” he rasped. “Perfect fucking mouth. Knew it was made for this. Knew you missed it.”
I hummed in agreement, taking him deep again, my hand working the base in rhythm with my mouth. Pre-cum leaked onto my tongue, bitter and perfect.
“Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice rough as gravel. “Take it all. Show me how much you missed my cock.”
I increased my pace, bobbing my head, using my hand to twist on the upstroke. Saliva dripped down my chin, and I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the ragged sound of his breathing, the way his fingers tightened in my hair, the low, filthy praises falling from his lips.
“You suck my dick better than anyone,” he grunted. “Always did. Knew you were a goddamn natural. Knew you loved having me down your throat.”
I did. I loved the weight of him, the taste, the control, the way I could make the strongest man I knew come completely undone. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder, my other hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently.
He cursed, a long, low stream of filth. “Yeah, just like that. Play with them. You remember how sensitive I am there. Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last. Your mouth is too good.”
I didn’t want him to last. I wanted him to lose it. I wanted to taste his release, to have him come apart because of me. I redoubled my efforts, my throat working, my hand moving faster.
“Aura, I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice strained.
I looked up at him, holding his gaze, and took him as deep as I could, swallowing around him.
That was his undoing.
A guttural roar tore from his chest as he came, his hips lifting off the bed, his release pulsing hot and bitter down my throat. I swallowed every drop, milking him with my mouth and hand until he was shuddering and spent, his grip in my hair going lax.
I released him slowly, licking him clean with soft, kittenish strokes until he flinched from oversensitivity. Then I crawled back up his body, collapsing beside him on the bed.
