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“The night we met. Remember? Me naked, you clothed?”
He grinned. “You bet I remember. Me on my feet, you on your knees.” His breath hissing through his teeth in a shocked gasp of pleasure as she lapped up one side of his shaft, twisted around the glans again and swiped down the other side.
“So strange,” she murmured, between voluptuous strokes of her tongue. “It was like I was split in two. One part thinking, God, he is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen…” She took time out to flutter her tongue flirtatiously against the taut pucker of flesh on the underside of his cock head. “The other part thinking, this guy is going to kill me.”
He shook with a burst of silent laughter. “Same here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m so sure,” she scoffed. “As if I could be so scary, buck naked and dripping wet.”
His laughter shocked off as she did something totally amazing with her tongue, fluttering it underneath and around while she worked the base of his cock with her hands. “Oh, you were plenty scary,” he told her. “I thought I was meat. I thought Zhoglo’d sent you.”
That jolted her so much, she took her mouth away from that excellent thing she’d been doing with her tongue against his cock head.
Not a desirable outcome. He should have kept his goddamn mouth shut. But it was his own fault. Served him right, for falling ass over head for a talkative woman.
“No way!” she breathed. “Zhoglo?Me?”
“I thought, oh, shit, they’re onto me,” he confessed. “I thought, either you were a black widow assassin sent to fuck me and kill me, or else you were a call girl sent to fuck me and distract me so that somebody else could kill me. Either way, I was dead meat. I was consoled only by the fact that either way, I also got to fuck you. Split-second response. Couldn’t call it thinking.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
“Then I looked at your bare-ass naked perfect dripping body, and all I could think was, wow. What a way to go,” he concluded.
“You thought that I could be a call girl? Or anassassin?” Her voice squeaked till it broke. “A milquetoast wuss like me? Puh-leeze.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, “I know exactly what to do with an assassin or a call girl. I had no fucking clue what to do with you.”
She snickered. “Oh, you improvised well enough, as I recall.”
He ignored her, cupped her jaw and stared intently down into her beautiful upturned face as he struggled to frame the thought in words.
“You are so much more than I bargained for,” he said slowly. “You are like, the secret weapon, sweetheart. You take me to pieces.”
Her giggles stopped, the smile faded to a somber gaze, and she covered his hands with her own. She kissed both his palms, grabbed his cock and brought it to her mouth. And oh, sweet Jesus.
He would never survive pleasure of this intensity.
He’d had lots of blow jobs in his life. He’d started young, and never lacked for opportunities. He loved the lazy luxury of them, the feeling of godlike power, the wallowing in carnal bliss. Throwing his head back and just enjoying the sensation of a woman’s hot mouth sucking on his swollen cock until he exploded. It was one of those perennially dependable things like pizza. Even when it was bad, it was good.
True to form, with Becca, it was different. New world, new rules. She was honey sweet, red hot, a wildcat. He’d been with women with lots more experience and sheer technical expertise, but he’d never felt a woman go down on him as if she—
Loved him.
Whoa. No. Don’t go there. Not even in the privacy of his own mind. Shudders racked him, pleasure and terror in equal measure. He forgot all about godlike power, about power-tripping sex games. He just struggled to stay on his feet before this onslaught of selfless, ardent generosity. It humbled him, made him want to fall to his knees.
Her lush mouth moved over him, her strong hands twisted sensuously around the root while she laved the crown and sucked him in, deeper and deeper. So deep, for a clueless novice. And that agonizing…slow…swirl on every instroke, the deep hungry pull of suction, friction on every outstroke, and again, and again, andagain. Yes.
He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t slow down. With the volcanic force gathering, it was too damn soon, but that was just too damn bad—
He wound his fingers through her hair and shouted, hoarsely. Spasms of violent pleasure wrenched through him.
He was kind of surprised, some time later, to find that he was sitting on the bed. Good thing it had been right behind his knees, or he’d be flat on his ass. He was hobbled by the jeans that Becca at some point had jerked halfway down his thighs. His torso was collapsed over her body. Her head was cradled on his lap, her warm lips kissing his thigh. His cock, still long but finally softened, was nestled tenderly in her damp hand. Spent, home safe and happy. He couldn’t stop making that sobbing sound with every breath he sucked into his lungs.
He didn’t dare even look at her until it eased down, and that took what felt like forever. A dark, hot forever of nuzzling, of cuddling, wordless closeness, skin on skin. He never wanted it to end.
But everything had to end. Everything had to be let go.
He forced himself to sit upright. Every muscle in his body shook. He was soft and limp. Weak with pleasure, wet with sweat. Speechless.
