Page 22 of He Has Pluck

“Taste me,” I whisper trying not to beg, trying to infuse some challenge into my words when my heart thunders too loudly and blood rushes too fast through my veins to keep control.

He smiles a lazy smile, a confident smile, and if I didn’t see that tick in his jaw showing his tension I wouldn’t know how much control he’s exerting, how much he’s holding back, how much it’s costing him to taunt me.

I smile back at him, upping the ante with everything I have left, and I lick my lower lip, slowly, deliberately, and stare back at him with whatever spec of cool I have left.

“Fuuuuck.” He growls the word and lowers his mouth so I can feel his hot breath fanning my pussy, and I press myself into his face. He opens his mouth when I do and sucks me in.

The shock of his hot mouth on me, exactly what I wanted, what I was waiting for, begging for, shakes me, sensations overwhelming me so that I see stars and scream at the jolt of pleasure, not an orgasm but a seismic reflex to the sudden convergence of stimulation.

He strokes my leg and drops gentle kisses all around my pussy then, murmuring, telling me I’m beautiful, calming me and settling my overwrought nerve endings.

“Oh my God. What you’re doing to me… I never…”

“Shhh. It’s okay, Juliette.” He kisses my inner thigh. “We have all night. I’ll go easy on you.” He kisses my swollen mound without parting me.

“No, don’t. Don’t go easy. I want, I need—”

“I know what you need,” he whispers and then licks me, his tongue separating my folds and sliding across my clit, light and fast and making me fist the hair on his head, making me push his face, trying to force him as I squirm under him, pulsing my hips forward, so needy, so on edge.

But he’s strong, so ridiculously strong I have no control, and I give into him, letting him glide his tongue up and down, flicking it, making my clit rounder and slicker with each pass, with each excruciating flick until I call out his name in a desperate plea, so close.

I feel the vibration of his chuckle as he moves his hand to caress my ass, moves a finger inside me, making me gasp. Then he sucks and flicks his tongue, pressing hard against my clit, and I go from the edge into oblivion, exploding into his mouth with a wild scream, moaning his name and holding onto his hair, trying to hold onto the universe so I don’t get lost, because I feel like I’m losing myself into the convulsive pleasure jolting me, taking me away.

I slowly become aware that he’s moving, kissing my body everywhere as he goes, my abdomen, my heaving chest, the place where my heart beats madly just under the surface of my skin. When his face appears above mine, the gold-flecked depths of his eyes capture mine, and I hold onto him, my shaky hands coming to his stubbled jaw as I crush my mouth on his, wanting, needing to taste everything, to drink him in.

He rolls us over so that we’re side-by-side, facing each other, and we separate our lips but not our eyes.

“You’re a spectacular sight when you’re in the throes of an orgasm,” he says.

I struggle not to admit that I’ve never had an orgasm like this before.

“Of course,” I say, my words coming out breathier than they should have. I tug at his shirt. “Don’t you think it’s time to lose the clothes?”

He gives me a lazy smile like he’s in no hurry, but I slide a hand down to his crotch, and yes, I believe he’s actually about to explode. New respect for his self-control sends a thrill through me.

Instead of commenting, he gets out of bed and undresses, and even though he’s a lot quicker and more efficient than he was in the locker room, this strip tease lights up all kinds of pleasure nerves in me that should be exhausted by now, but they’re not. Oh no. Not even close. That heady buzz winds its way through my body, and my pussy liquifies all over again like an endless fountain.

“You are flat out the most arousing man I’ve ever met.” This much I can admit as he joins me back in bed. But I put a hand on his chest as I sit up, and he kneels next to me.

“Remember the rule,” I whisper, holding his hot stare. I reach down and take his magnificent straining cock in my hand, and my mouth fucking waters because I’m about to swallow this beast whole, and my pussy melts even more as I literally feel myself dripping down my inner thigh.

He takes in a quick breath, but doesn’t stop me from tightening my grip and moving my fingers over his tip, familiarizing myself. He shifts closer, and my nipples graze against his solid rough chest making me shiver and raising goosebumps all over my skin.

“Rule?” His voice is gravelly, and I’m almost speechless with hungry excitement, so on edge it’s like he’s a special aphrodisiac that heightens my sexuality to a whole new level, one I’ve never experienced before, one I never knew existed. And I wonder for a flicker if it’s the same for him before I answer myself. Of course, it is.

“No sex,” I say, almost regretting the sliver of self-preservation that has me hanging onto the rule in spite of the throbbing need inside me. His eyes close for a beat, hiding whatever regret he might have. “But don’t worry,” I whisper. “I’m going to give you the blow job of your life to make up for it.” I slide both my hands up and then down his shaft as it jumps then cup his balls.

He groans. “Whatever you do will automatically be the experience of a lifetime,” he says, his words strained as he digs his fingers into my ass and then slides his hands up my back. We’re both kneeling, but I shove him back, and he lays down, his legs wide and his cock straight up and proud, his eyes still on me, roaming around.

Kneeling between his legs, I feast my eyes on his body, the wide shoulders with those rounded muscles I want to squeeze, so I do. They’re smooth and hard, like everything about him. His abs are amazing, like a sculpture, the kind any Mr. Atlas would envy. His muscle-laden chest heaves as he reaches a hand up and tweaks my nipple.

“Like what you see, Ice Chip?”

“Are you really going to call me that now?” I arch a brow and then bite my lip to stifle a moan as he fingers my nipple, bringing it to a hard needy peak.

“How about ice puddle?” he rumbles.

“How about Juliette?” I say, managing to hold it together, to not drool while I try to contain my emotions or whatever needy part of me is finding him so goddamn irresistible.