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“Ready to get in the hot tub?” Easton asks after we eat and clean the kitchen.
“Umm...hold on. Can you sit on the couch for me?” I ask nervously.
He pops a brow. “Sure.”
I adore how he's so willing to just go with whatever I ask. He has the patience of a saint.
Once he's settled, I stand between his legs and kneel. He wraps his hands behind his head, giving me full access to him.
“I want you to tell me what you want me to do,” I tell him.
“Undo my button and zipper,” he commands with fire in his eyes, and I do. I keep my gaze locked on his, ready and willing. “Lower my jeans and pull out my cock.”
I slowly unzip as I anticipate seeing him. Easton doesn't rush me. He stays silent and patient as I nervously fumble my way through it.
With both hands, I pull down his pants as he lifts his hips to help. His thick cock springs free, and my mouth waters at the sight of it.
Good Lord.
“Now what?” I ask hoarsely.
“Spit on it and stroke my shaft,” he orders.
I bring the tip to my lips and spit over the crown. When it's nice and slippery, I grip him, then slowly move up and down. He releases a groan, and I move faster, the friction of my hand and his velvety skin making him harder.
The thick vein under his shaft bulges, and it’s obvious he likes the way it feels.
“Wrap those pretty lips around my cock, Tatum. Suck hard, slow, fast, deep—however you want. I promise it'll feel amazing no matter what you do.”
He knows I need reassurance, and I appreciate that he doesn't make me question myself.
Sitting up higher on my knees, I bring his tip to my mouth and open. He smells so manly, and I can't get enough. I inhale, then push him inside me.
Easton releases a moan that encourages me to keep going. His fingers tangle in my hair as he slowly guides me up and down his length.
“Play with my balls with your other hand,” he grits out.
I nudge his legs wider with my elbow and reach between his thighs.
“Carefully,” he adds. “They're sensitive.”
As softly as I can, I cup and massage them as I stroke and suck on his cock. Saliva is all over my face and fingers as I go deeper.
“Fuck, Tatum...that's perfect. You're working me so goddamn good.”
His compliments fill my stomach with butterflies, and I want nothing more than to help him lose control.
Every time I squeeze my lips around him, he buckles underneath me. I stroke him harder as I hollow my cheeks, noticing how it drives him crazy.
“Shit, baby. I'm gonna come. Move back.”
This time, though, I don't listen.
I tighten my grip and increase my pace. If he can eat me out and lick my arousal, I can swallow his.
“Tatum...” He runs his fingers through my hair and gently tugs, but I stay planted. “Fuck.”
With a guttural groan, his thighs shake against me as he releases down my throat. I swallow him down, loving how he tastes. I lick my lips, meeting his satisfied gaze. Easton cups my face, and our mouths collide. He groans, pulling me on his lap, then cups my ass.
“Best fucking blow job I've ever had,” he murmurs.
I snort. “Doubtful.”
“Swear to God, Tatum. You kneeling between my legs with my cock in your mouth is a vision I'll never forget.”
I feel the same about the way he ate me out in the kitchen.
My bare pussy grinds against his erection. I shift slightly to see if he notices.
“Tatum...” he warns as he grips my hips to stop me.
“Oh sorry, you probably need an hour to, uh...” I nod toward his groin.
He snaps his eyes to me, disbelief in them. Then he bursts out laughing. “Oh, woman. I'm about to blow your damn mind and show you exactly why being with a younger man is gonna be the best experience of your life.”
My heart skips a beat at his arrogant tone.
“But I did promise you a date night in the hot tub so we could watch the moonrise.”
Seriously? He wants to stop? We can go in the hot tub any other night.
“You look disappointed.” He brushes my hair back, then buries his face in my neck. “Is that because you liked my tongue in your pussy?”
A shiver rolls through me. “Yes,” I whisper.
“What else do you want in that tight little cunt of yours?”
The way those sexy words fall from his mouth like he's asking about the weather boggles my mind. His confidence is intimidating, but I can’t let my insecurities get in the way of what I really want.
Him. All of him.
“You,” I say when he cups my breast.
“No, I want to hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” He pinches a nipple, causing my head to spin.
