Page 48 of Fixed Asset

“Goddamn,” he moaned.

I hummed my appreciation and, on a downstroke, took him deep and forced myself to take more, and only pulled back when I felt my gag reflex kick in.

His hands came off the bed, drove into my hair, holding my head at my temples.

“Again,” he demanded.

I sucked in a breath and dropped my mouth down. His hips flexed up. The pads of his fingers dug into my scalp, I took him as deep as I could, and he only let me free when my noise turned desperate.

“Good fucking Christ.” His growl slithered over me, down, and pulsed between my legs. “You swallow?”

His filthy question sent another wave of excitement through me.

With a mouth full of cock, I did the only thing I could do and nodded.

“Keep going, baby. I’m almost there.”

I doubled my efforts and kept going. He didn’t release my head as he bucked his hips, matching my strokes. I worked him with my mouth. My hand on his balls massaged and tugged until he shot off down my throat on a low, feral moan. That didn’t wash over me—it burned over me.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

I swallowed.

Then before I knew what was happening, Jack’s hands went under my pits and he was hauling me up his body.

“Face.”

I couldn’t process his demand or my new position, but to stop myself from falling forward, my palms landed on the headboard. Jack’s hand landed on my ass with a slap.

“Scoot up, pussy on my face.”

Um.

“Jack.” His name came out wobbly because I wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. I’d never done this before. I didn’t know how to do this.

I didn’t need to know how. Jack slid down, gripped my hip with one hand, used the other to yank the gusset of my panties to the side. I heard the fabric tear right before he pulled me down onto his awaiting mouth.

Then he ate. No, then he commenced devouring me. Jack didn’t eat pussy—he overwhelmingly, spectacularly, with brilliant precision ate pussy. His tongue was magical. The stubble on his chin chafed in the best of ways. His thumb found my clit with aim that should’ve been impossible.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

I might not have known what to do, but my body sure did. All thoughts of smothering him or doing it wrong flew out the window. I rocked my hips and rode his face, reaching for a climax that was lingering just under the surface. My nipples pebbled. My belly got warm. My toes curled.

I was whimpering, so close, it was right there . . . then Jack’s thumb was gone.

I whimpered again, this time unhappily. His tongue swiped up and circled my clit. His teeth grazed the sensitive spot. My whimpers turned into groans. He sucked my clit so hard, my back bowed, and I came on a chant of his name, or a call to God, or maybe it was a string of nonsensical words. I’d never know because I was flying apart. Amazingly flying apart, so high I was out of my body. I could do nothing but feel.

The only thing keeping me upright as pleasure tore through me was Jack’s hands on my ass. He slowed his ministrations, gently kissing and licking me while my orgasm waned.

“Scoot down, baby.”

Impossible.

“I would if I could get my legs to work.”

I felt him chuckle against my pussy, sending aftershocks up to my clit, making it pulse.

Jack turned his head, kissed my thigh, then did all the work as he dragged me down while he sat up. I ended up sitting on his lap. His back was to the headboard, and we were face-to-face.