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Beth stroked him, one slow, firm stroke. A tiny bead of liquid leaked from the tip. She pressed a small, wet kiss to that spot just as she glanced up to see Eric’s face.

She couldn’t read much. He looked…serious. She licked the underside of his cock, just to see if she could budge his expression. His jaw jumped. Good enough for her. She smiled and licked again, loving the rich, clean taste of his skin.

Eric took a deep breath. “You said I owed you.”

She closed her eyes and sighed against him. “This isn’t for you,” she whispered. “It’s for me.”

Beth wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, saying a little prayer of thanks for the class she’d given on fellatio this summer. She finally had someone to practice her newfound skills on.

She took it slow, building up, pressing small kisses at first, then lingering ones, letting him feel the moisture of her open lips. Then she slid her mouth over him, pressing her tongue to the underside of his head. His taste settled into her, making her hum with pleasure. He smelled like soap and sex combined, and salt touched her tongue when she sucked.

She eased him deeper, aware of how thick he was, how impossible it would be to take it all. Her clit felt painfully hard as she took as much of him as she could before easing back.

His hands still hung by his sides, but his fingers had curled into fists.

Beth took him deep again, letting him push roughly over her tongue. This time when she pulled back, she stroked with her fist at the same time, and Eric gasped. She used her mouth and hand in slow tandem, knowing the sensations would blend together into one nonstop feeling of—

“Christ,” he ground out. Now his hands were open, hovering near her head as if he wanted to take hold of her and thrust deep.

Closing her eyes, she let herself feel everything. His tension. His hardness. The way he seemed to get thicker with each pull of her mouth. This was what she’d always yearned for. Pleasure. Getting it or giving it, that part didn’t matter. She just wanted the pure blankness of it. Wanted it to go on forever. She took him over and over again, loving every minute of it. She lost herself in every stroke of him inside her mouth, taking him as deep as she could manage.

“Beth,” he breathed after long minutes of silence.

She knew what he was going to say. She could taste it on her tongue.

“Stop,” he urged. “I can’t…”

But she didn’t want to stop. Because his hand was finally in her hair—urging her to stay still or take more, she didn’t know. She tightened her fist around him, quickened the slide of her mouth, and felt his hand slip toward the back of her skull. His breath hissed between his teeth, then he groaned and jerked and his come flooded her throat.

It was the most fun she’d had in months.

ERIC COLLAPSED ONTO THE bed, his body warm and completely weak. “That’s not what I was planning,” he managed to say.

“Oh?” Beth pressed against his side, chuckling softly. Her hand traced light circles on his chest. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

His laugh sounded more like a groan.

“So what did you have planned? And when did you start planning?”

“Okay, plan may be too strong a word, but I definitely had some major points I wanted to hit.” And none of them had started with having an orgasm three minutes into the best blow job of his life.

“Like?” she asked, her hand dipping lower. He didn’t think it was possible to get hard again so quickly, but if anyone could make it happen, it was Beth Cantrell.

“Like…” He watched her fingers spread wide just below his rib cage. Her hand looked so feminine against him. “Like I thought I’d spend a little time on you first.”

“A little time?” she teased.

“Well, I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

Her nails bit lightly into his skin.

“I thought I’d make you come,” he said. “And then I thought I’d slide deep inside you. Maybe make you come again.” He pushed up to one elbow, and Beth rolled to her back. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me inside you while you scream my name?”

“I…” Her eyelids fluttered. “That would be good, yes.”

“Yes?” He traced the same spot he’d traced before, the rise of her breast against the dark blue fabric of her bra. Her skin…he couldn’t describe it, not even in his own mind. Soft was an utterly inadequate word.

He reached for the delicate bow at the front of the bra and pulled it free. “You always have these little ties.”

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