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An unintentional smile spreads across my lips. How did I get so dang lucky to be able to call this man mine?
Although the circumstances in getting here weren’t ideal, I have to wonder if the universe knew exactly what it was doing when it brought us back into each other’s lives.
He was beyond sweet last night, dealing with my emotions. Depression is something that occasionally hits me out of the blue. Most of the time, I’m able to work through it or simply ignore it altogether. And sometimes, it knocks me down a few pegs.
Like last night.
Everything I’d been trying to shove down came screaming to the surface, its presence demanding to be felt.
But Shane didn’t make me feel bad about any of it. Instead, he made me feel seen and heard, and he made me feel safe.
I don’t know that I can ever express to him how much that meant to me. But I did tell him I loved him.
And I meant it.
And when I get this stupid cast off, I’m going to show him my appreciation in all kinds of dirty ways.
Speaking of which, I can feel his hard length pressing into my ass. His boxers do nothing to contain the beast.
Last night, we didn’t end up fooling around at all. Between my foul mood and exhaustion, sleep was the better option.
But now…the other stuff sounds like so much more fun. What can I say? My love language happens to be physical touch.
Trying not to disturb him, I move as carefully as possible while turning over to face him. Then, I gently roll him onto his back. He moves a little but doesn’t wake up.
I drag his boxers down to his feet and lay on my side next to him, my face parallel to his waist.
His cock stands straight up, hard as a rock, and I take a moment to gawk at it. It’s a little thinner at the base, and my eyes follow the throbbing vein up to the thick purple head.
My hand reaches up to grab the base and angle it toward my eager mouth, and I waste no time shoving it in all the way until it touches my tonsils. Thank goodness I don’t have much of a gag reflex.
Shane immediately stirs, and his eyes shoot open to look at me.
“Holy shit, Jenna,” he whispers, taking in the sight before him.
He grabs a pillow and sets it behind him, propping up his head to give him a better view of the show. And I make sure to deliver one hell of a performance.
I take my time, licking and sucking at a slow, steady pace, building him up but never letting him fall over the edge.
My tongue glides along the soft skin of the underside of his cock before licking the glistening drop of pre-cum from the tip. Then, I move a little lower to run my tongue over his balls.
“Oh my God, Sunshine,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
My hand strokes him up and down while my tongue continues to play.
His hand runs through my hair, lightly grabbing it but never trying to control my movements.
When his body starts twitching, I know he’s starting to get close. Moving my mouth back to his dick, I start sucking again. I hollow out my cheeks, creating more suction while my hand strokes him at a faster pace.
“Fuck, Jenna,” he moans. “Just like that. I’m going to come.”
I appreciate the warning, but I don’t stop. I continue sucking until the tangy liquid starts spurting into the back of my throat. I keep my mouth on him until he finishes, and I swallow every drop. I continue to suck softly until I feel him start to go limp in my mouth.
He gently pulls me toward him and wraps his arms around me. “You’re a fucking angel,” he says.
I laugh. “Remember that next time I’m being a pain in your ass.”
“Deal,” he replies with a smile and a kiss. When he looks over the clock, he groans. “Do you know how hard it is to get up and go to work after the best blow job of my life?”
