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I drop to my knees.
Chapter Twelve
Garrett
Fuck. Those big chocolate pools peer up at me as she lowers herself to her knees, and in an instant, my flaccid cock is as stiff as a board. I reach for her, intending on tugging her back up. I’m not here for this. I’m not here just so I can get my dick some action. I’m here because I meant what I said. She is my safe place. She is home to me.
She bats my hands away, giving her head a shake as she shoots me a pointed glare. I can’t help but chuckle and lift my hands in defeat. After all, who am I to deny my girl?
“You don’t have to do this, Baby Girl.” I rasp, and she shrugs.
“I know, but I want to do this for you. I want to worship you for once.”
Doesn’t she know that every naked encounter we have is her worshipping me? I’m about to say as much when she wraps her lips around the swollen head of my cock. My words die in my throat, and all I can release is a hiss as pleasure travels to my nuts and deep inside me.
Using both hands, she wraps them around my shaft and starts to work them up and down, squeezing as she goes to give me the friction I’m craving. It’s fucking hard not to thrust my hips and penetrate her throat with the size of my dick. The urge is strong, and instead of gripping her hair to control her head, I slap my palms against the tiled wall to brace myself.
Her dark eyes haven’t left mine. She has me in her trance as she pumps my dick and licks my tip before giving it a good suck.
“Fuck, Baby Girl. Your mouth is like heaven.”
Her eyes flare like she would be grinning if my dick weren’t taking up her mouth, and then she presses her head forward and takes more of me in. It’s a stretch. I know that. My dick isn’t small, and although most guys would probably love a dick like mine, it can be a deterrent. It’s why my sexual encounters are minimal. Most girls balk at it when they feel it or get a look. Rhys George isn’t most girls though, and she accepts me. All of me.
The moment she gags, my dick jerks. I instantly feel bad and pull out to give her time to recover.
She gasps, sucking in air, her cheeks flushed red as she keeps her eyes on me. “Such a mouthful.” She pants, grinning up at me. “Give me more.”
I chuckle as she eases my beast back into the heat of her mouth, and the way she moans around me shoots electric currents of pleasure to my balls. She picks up the pace, using one hand to stroke me, the other rolling my balls as she devours my cock.
It only takes another minute of her heavenly touch to send me fevered, and I sink my teeth into my forearm to stop from making any noise as I cum down her throat. My load is too much for her to handle, and the sick part of me loves how she can’t take it all, needing to pull back so my seed jets over her face.
“Fuck baby.” I pant, stroking the last remnants of cream from my cock as she uses her fingers to wipe up what the spray of the shower misses and licks her fingers clean.
“I don’t need to worry about not eating while I’m on my hunger strike. You fill me up good, Big Guy.”
My brows shoot up as I laugh. My girl never ceases to surprise me with her smart mouth and minxie ways.
“Come up here so I can repay you.” I rasp, but she shakes her head as she stands.
“No need. I already came while I was choking on your cum. It’s like magic orgasm juice or something.” She beams, and again, I laugh.
Rhys George has a way of making a guy forget all about his worries. I know she fell to her knees for me on purpose. It’s the only way she knows how to help in these situations.
We cuddle under the spray of the shower for a few more minutes before we get out and dry off, slipping into Rhys’ bedroom with only towels wrapped around us. We hurry to climb under the covers, and although it hurts to have her pressed against my ribs, where I’m pretty sure one is cracked, I don’t push my girl away. I fucking need her nearness right now. I need to feel the warmth of her skin, so soft and delicate and all feminine. I need to feel her chest rising and falling, feel her breath fan over my skin, and hear her breathing even out as she succumbs to sleep in my arms.
It's fucking perfect.
I try not to think too much about my old man. The way it pissed him off so much that his punches didn’t pack what they did the last time he was living with us.
I try not to think about my mum and how much I look up to her, yet feel disappointed in her for not standing up and refusing to allow her abusive husband to come back into our home.
I try not to think about Britney and Polly and how scared they must have been when they were woken in the middle of the night to be rushed away to our aunt’s house.
I try not to think about everything I had to reveal yesterday to Rhys’ mum, my principal, and the look of sympathy she couldn’t hold back. I fucking hate that look. It’s one of the reasons I keep my bullshit to myself. The thing is, the situation with my dad doesn’t just affect me. It affects my sisters and mum too, which is the reason I spoke up. They are the reason I wear these bruises, so they don’t have to. And they are the reason I held back and didn’t fucking kill my dad, because they need me, and so does this dark angel in my arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Shaun
