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He dug his fingers into her hair and tipped his head forward enough to watch her. A lot of women closed their eyes when they sucked dick, but Shay’s were focused on his face as she swallowed him as deeply as she could.

That was sexy as fuck.

Watching her might make him lose it quicker, but it was worth the risk.

Cupping his balls in one hand, she began to stroke them downward, tugging gently.

Fuck yeah.

She released the root to stroke the spot between his asshole and his sac, then began to push and massage, like she was on a hunt for…

What the fuck?

He tipped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, ignoring what her mouth was doing, to concentrate on the fingers on his taint instead.

Prostrate massages weren’t anything new to him and he got stoked whenever he found a woman willing to do them. But most didn’t know that the spot where she was pressing was another way to drive a man crazy without having to dig deep.

Somehow Shay knew just where to concentrate.

And, fuck him, there was no way this was her first time doing it. With how reserved she was, that surprised the fuck out of him.

He released a hiss when she pressed harder, dug deeper, making small circles as she alternated between licking down his length and sucking him, using her tongue to circle the crown and also dip into his slit.

“Fuck, Shay…” It sounded like a complaint, but it was far from it.

If she didn’t stop, he’d blow.

If she stopped, he might just shed a tear.

He was torn whether to let her finish him off or…

Without a wrap, he wouldn’t fuck her. He wasn’t willing to take that risk and doubted she was, either.

It didn’t matter when his decision became an easy one. With her mouth on him, her tugging on his balls and her fingers pressing on his elusive P-spot, he quickly gave up fighting the good fight.

When he threw in the white towel, he managed to warn her in time. “Gonna blow.”

He swore his brains shot out of his pulsing dick when he blew thick ropey cum all over his belly and up his chest.

A lot of women sucked a man until he came but forgot about the rest. Ozzy loved when his nuts were sucked and touched. He loved it even more when they knew how to give him such an intense orgasm.

Like Shay just did.

Shay slayed his ass.

Totally fucking slayed it.

And it was un-fucking-forgettable.

Since his fingers were still tangled in her hair, he tugged on it gently, encouraging her to come back up to him.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Causing a mess,” she answered, her hand waving over his stomach and chest.

“Anytime you wanna make a mess like that, ain’t gonna say no. In fact, if I do, someone better get me a straight-jacket and a padded fuckin’ room.”

She dipped her head when she laughed and his amusement quickly fled. “Shay,” he murmured.

She lifted her face, her amusement gone, as well.

“Said this before, but need to say it again. Know women hate it when men tell them to fuckin’ smile and promise I ain’t ever gonna ask you to do that, but need you to promise me one thing… When you do smile or laugh, you don’t hide it from me. Especially if I caused it. ‘Cause if I caused it, it’s mine and I want it. Don’t ever fuckin’ doubt that.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Promise me that.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

“Know you thought you had a reason to hide it when you were younger and were surrounded by fuckin’ assholes. But, sweetheart, you don’t got one fuckin’ reason to hide it now. You get me?”

She gave him a little nod. “I get you.”

“Now, gonna clean up and then we’re headin’ upstairs to my place so I can make you breakfast and we can eat it out on the deck before it gets too ball-sweatin’ hot and the flyin’ blood-suckin’ bastards decide we’re their breakfast.” He reluctantly rolled out of bed and away from her, heading toward the bathroom.

Once he cleaned off the result of her mind-shattering blowjob, he stepped out of the bathroom to find her already dressed in flip-flops, denim shorts and a Pennsylvania Grand Canyon souvenir T-shirt, standing by the nightstand and running her fingers over his beads.

When he wore them, he always kept them hidden under his shirt. He rarely forgot to put them on because he felt naked without them. Like an important piece of him was missing.

But when it came to sleeping, sex or showering, he always removed them. And he’d removed them last night at the same time he’d stripped down so they wouldn’t get in the way or get ripped off his neck.

“Tell me about this.”

“Just somethin’ I liked.”

She picked the long necklace up and worked the beads through her fingers, touching each one and inspecting them. “No.”

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