Page 27 of Summer Brew

I press my lips to the tip; the touch is barely there but his entire body still shudders. After pulling back slightly, I wrap my tongue around the crown of his cock. I collect the pre-cum there and can’t help the moan that slips from my lips.

His head snaps down and his eyes almost bug out of his head. That’s the moment I wrap my lips around him and take him into my mouth. He grunts as his hips jerk like he wants to fuck my face but holds himself back.

My fingers tighten around him, and he breathes out through his nose, the sound heavy and on the edge of feral. I bob my head up and down his length, going slowly while relaxing my jaw as much as I can. When my hand starts to move in time with my mouth, his entire body tenses.

If my mouth weren’t so full, I would be smiling right now. The feeling I get while getting his control to fray is a rush. It makes me feel powerful.

I fucking love it.

As my movements speed up, his fingers dive into my hair. The strands tangle while he grips them, and the slight sting goes straight to my clit.

“Gemma,” he hisses my name, his jaw clenched while his whiskey-colored eyes are locked on where my lips stretch around his length. “You’re fucking killing me.”

He must see the sparkle in my eyes because one side of his mouth tips up in a wicked smirk. I take him a little deeper and swallow around the tip. That smirk slides off his face instantly and possessive heat fills his gaze while his lips part and he starts panting.

Just as I slide back up his shaft with a slurp, his eyes dart to the timer as if wanting to make sure we have enough time. He startles when I reach for his balls with my other hand. I roll them around my palm gently and his thighs clench.

His fingers tighten in my hair, and I moan around him while sliding him just a little deeper.

“Gemma,” he growls, the warning clear in his voice.

I’m not sure if he’s warning me that he’s about to come or that I’m in danger. Either way, I’m good with it.

I don’t stop.

I don’t slow down.

I move faster, chasing the need I see blazing in his eyes. Because I feel the same fire in my belly.

The need to please him.

The need to watch him fall apart.

The need to catch him.

His balls tighten in my palm, and I give a gentle tug which has Keaton punching his hips forward. The cords of his neck are strained, and I can see how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

Poor guy.

He’s still holding back.

As I slide up his cock the next time, I let my teeth scrape just slightly. Barely. Not enough to hurt, enough to shock.

And it does.

Keaton’s eyes turn molten and the last of his control snaps. He starts fucking my face, not hard but enough to make it hot as hell. Spit spills over my bottom lip and down over my chin.

As tears slide over my cheeks, it mixes with my saliva. Keaton lets go of my hair with one of his hands, his fingers sliding along the wetness on my chin and neck.

“Beautiful mess,” he groans. “So pretty for me.”

I pull off him, my jaw aching. My tongue runs along the rim of his cock’s crown and then along the veins throbbing with every one of his heartbeats. His lip curls up as he snarls, his eyes begging for me to swallow him down again.

After a few good breaths of air, I wrap my lips around him again.

“Fuck, yes,” he hisses.

This time, he has no control to snap. He takes over again, his movements deep but precise. I’m not even a little bit worried about him taking it too far or hurting me.