Page 63 of Praise


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Mirroring his expression, I bite my own lip. “I want to suck your cock,” I say, my sweet tone laced with false innocence.

He leans down and puts his face close to mine. “You have to ask nicely.”

“Sir,” I breathe, pressing against his lips. “Can I please suck your cock?”

He growls, squeezing his fist in my hair as he kisses me with so much strength it almost hurts.

“You’re so phenomenal,” and the praise lights a fire in my belly. My panties must be destroyed by now, and I swear it’ll take one touch against my clit and I’ll be done for. I thought the hallway moment was the hottest thing I’ve ever done, but that was before I had the full Emerson Grant experience.

With his hand still in my hair, he stands upright and guides my face toward his crotch. Pulling his waistband down even farther, I run my tongue along the length of his shaft, reaching the head and circling my lips around it. He gasps and shifts his hips forward. I love his reactions, and I want to make him do more. So I lick his cock again and again, teasing him just to feel him tense and hear him pant.

When I finally open my mouth and slide him in along the length of my tongue, he moans so loud, the vibrations rattle through me.

“Fuck, Charlotte.”

Yes. I need more of that, I think as I bob up and down on his shaft, finding my rhythm and coating his dick with saliva. When he touches the back of my throat, I gag and take a breath, before letting him go deeper and deeper. He stops breathing at one point and I’m almost certain he’s going to unload in my mouth. I’ve never experienced spitting or swallowing before, but I would for him. I would do anything for him.

Instead of coming in my mouth, he lets out a guttural roar and yanks me off the floor.

“Not yet,” he barks as he carries me to his desk, kissing my mouth with a fierce hunger.

He drops me on his desk and grabs my blouse at the center. With one quick jerk, he tears it apart, sending buttons flying across the room. There is no pacing himself as he yanks down my bra. I let out a gasp when his mouth finds my breasts.

My hips are writhing against him as his teeth gently close around my right nipple. He massages my other breast with his hand, tugging on the sensitive bud and making my body light up with fireworks.

“Oh my God…” I gasp

Moving his mouth downward, he drags up my skirt to find my panties underneath.

“Lie down,” he growls in a sexy command, so I do. Staring up at the ceiling, feeling like I’m drunk as it sways and blurs in my vision, I feel Emerson’s face between my thighs. He takes a long inhale through his nose, nuzzled against the moisture of my panties.

I want to be self-conscious. In any other scenario or with any other man, I would be, but with him, I just let myself feel it, without thinking too much about the smell, or how it’s been a couple days since I shaved, or if the fact that I’m so turned on is somehow embarrassing.

“God, you’re soaked,” he whispers. His fingers dig under the waistband of my panties, and he tears them off with violent eagerness. And he doesn’t hesitate before drawing his broad tongue along the crevice with an edacious moan.

“You taste so fucking good.”

I swear he doesn’t come up for air, and I have no idea how after at least five minutes of him lapping hungrily at my cunt, he hasn’t suffocated. The sounds I’m making are not anything like the sounds I’ve ever made before. There is no faking or forcing it with Emerson. Everythingfeels so good.

“I’m gonna come,” I pant with my legs clenching around his ears. He hums even louder, sending delicate vibrations straight to my core. When he feels my thighs start to tremble, he slides in a finger and sucks eagerly on my clit.

Thrusting one, then two, inside me, he curls them just right and I’m reminded of that elusive G-spot that I didn’t know even existed until yesterday. It all feels like too much and not enough at the same time, like I can’t take another second but never, ever want it to stop. I’m going to explode or die or scream orsomething.Then, he picks up speed and growls hungrily between my legs.

My body erupts in pleasure. With my fists in his hair, I come so hard, my hips lift from the desk, and I start to lose track of time. My body is locked in euphoria for hours instead of seconds, and when I start to come back down from the orgasm I never want to end, there is a gentle buzzing in my fingers and toes.

Emerson stands up and wipes his mouth. “You are so beautiful when you come,” he groans, kissing my stomach and then my breasts. I’m subtly aware of him opening a drawer and fishing around for something. When I look up, he’s already sheathing his cock in a rubber.

“I need to fuck you now,” he murmurs against my neck. Excitement strikes my core like lightning. I may have just orgasmed my face off, but I want more. Latching my ankles around his waist, I look him in the eye as I pull him toward me.

“I’m ready.”

The blunt end of his cock presses against my soaking center as he drapes each of my legs over his arms. And with one rapid jerk, he drags me onto his cock, impaling me quickly and sinking all the way in. The actualroarthat escapes his lips his surreal. With his gaze locked on mine, he plunges inside me hard, pausing once he’s seated all the way, only to pull out and slam in again. My toes curl and my fingers grip the desk. The pleasure of having him inside me is so intense, I could cry.

He starts to pick up speed, grunting with each thrust, and whatever spot he’s hitting inside me feels like he’s untapped some hidden code of bliss, because I’m already feeling the urge to come again. With my legs in his arms, he slams into me again and again. It’s rapture, another onslaught of sensation, but this time different, less intense but more consuming…and so, fucking good.

“I’m coming again,” I cry out, and he keeps the hard speed while I lie there with my eyes closed lost in absolute bliss. Pulling me upright, he kisses my mouth with a harsh bite.

“Open your eyes, Charlotte,” he commands, and I do. As our eyes meet, he growls, “God, I love fucking you.”

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