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His consideration filled me with gratitude, and when I moaned my assent, his fingers speared through my loose locks, the tips dragging against my scalp, not to force, just to urge me close.
When I delved inside his fly, he hissed as his dick flopped out. He was thick and hard and long. My pussy clenched at the thought of taking him. I knew he’d split me wide open, and those inches would pack a punch if he took me roughly.
I didn’t even think about it, just reacted—I rubbed my fingers between my legs, feeling the heat from my center start to filter through the denim.
Not forcing it, just exploring myself, with my other hand, I held the base of him before I started urging spit to gather around his shaft.
Following each vein with the tip of my tongue, I got him nice and wet then started sucking on the mushroom tip. He snarled under his breath, his fingers tightening around my hair for a split second before releasing me with what had to be a conscious effort.
As I familiarized myself with the flared tip, I started to rock back and forth against the tiny weeping slit there, already tasting his pre-cum and craving more of it.
“Fuck, Star, please,” he growled. “Stop fucking tormenting me.”
My lips curved at the plea, but the words lit me up inside. Gave me strength. I rubbed the area above my clit just for some friction, then I slowly started to take him inside my mouth.
With training came a loss of my gag reflex, something I intended to lose again seeing as it had been a long ass time since I’d sucked any prick’s dick. It satisfied me to work toward giving him that. To let him take advantage of a skill I’d never wanted to learn and had been forced to adjust to.
And how he bit off curses, groaning and grunting with every inch I managed to acclimate to, made it even more worthwhile, and my overachieving self was ever eager to please him.
With how wet he was, I slid all the way down in increments. When my nose rubbed his pubis, he was making garbled noises as if he’d forgotten the English language.
That was when I swallowed around him.
“Holy fucking shit,” he rasped, the words thick and dense, dropping to the floor as if they had weight to them. “This is… your mouth. Oh, Jesus. Thank you, baby. You’re so fucking good to me. Taking all of me. My bad girl. So fucking bad—”
I’d inadvertently frozen when he’d started that sentence with ‘my.’
Good girl.
That was what I thought he’d say.
Those were words I didnotwant to hear.
But of course, he was Conor. And even when he was on cloud nine, when he was staring paradise in the face, he knew how to say the right thing.
That heartburn was back.
“My naughty girl. So fucking naughty,” he rasped again, making my fingers speed up above my clit. “That beautifully filthy mouth of yours. So perfect.”
I rumbled nonsense words around him just to hear him choke out a moan. Then I started to rock my head. His fingers clamped in my hair but he didn’t force the pace.
As I fucked him with my throat, I began to move faster, then, with my free hand, I dragged at his pants to create more space so I could reach into his fly and rub his balls together.
There wasn’t enough room, but the compression had him hoarsely groaning with the ecstasy thatIgavehim and made his hips snap forward.
And somehow, that gave my pleasure wings.
I came.
It was a bit like a sneeze in comparison to what he could give me, but it was better than a slap in the face.
What made it better was how I’d done it myself, how there’d been no wall to scale, but the real cherry on the sundae was when he whispered his thanks as I swallowed every drop he had to give me.
Praising me and worshiping me as if I were the first person to ever give him a blow job—
No.
My mind froze.
