Page 72 of For the Love of Art

I bit the inside of his leg, and he hissed. I wrapped my mouth around him, taking him in as far as I could. Once my throat started to reject the size of him, I sucked back to the tip. His fingers gripped my hair like he was hanging on for dear life as I continued to work him with my mouth.

“Isla, fuck! Ah!” His words of encouragement spurred me on until he said. “Baby, stop. You gotta– ah, fuck– stop.”

I stopped.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

I’d only ever been with one man, and at the time, I believed that man was legally obligated to tell me my blowjobs were good.

“No.” He was breathing heavily. “No. The problem was it felt too good.” Nathan suavely lifted me. I squealed and wrapped my legs around him as he walked to the bedroom, saying, “I have every intention of finally knowing what your pussy feels like when it cums all over my cock.”

He deposited me on the bed, then climbed over top me, kissing me as he did. I didn’t think I could ever get enough of the feel of his lips on mine. He reached around my back and undid my bra. Once my breasts were exposed, he sucked my nipple and I arched my back.

A phone rang from the other room. We both perked up, and I quickly registered that the tone was mine.

Nathan dropped his head, then rolled off me.

“I’ll be right back.” I kissed his chest a couple of times before going to my phone.

When I pulled my phone from my purse, my heart stopped.