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Drake doesn’t take a step backward as I inch closer, and like everything else this man does, his determination and unwillingness to back down turns me on in a way that would give a psychologist weeks of work to decipher.

“Is it not enough?” I ask, my hands going to the front of his jeans.

There’s a challenge in his eyes despite no sound coming from his lips.

I’m not gentle when I tug down his zipper and reach into his boxers. I expect to scoop up a hand of unprepared cock and balls, but his erection is already at nearly fit performance. I feel the thrill of it in my own jeans as I drop to my knees in front of him.

“Is it more you’re after?” I snap, wanting to sound angry and in control, but there’s a lusty hitch to my voice. “Something like this?”

I mouth the tip of his cock, watching his jaw go from tense to lax with what I have to presume is awe.

“Ever think that maybe I haven’t done this with you because I never have? That I’m worried you won’t enjoy it?”

“Never? Jesus, Alex. More.”

I give him what he asks, grateful for the guiding hand he places at the back of my head.

I’ve thought about this, pictured me on my knees exactly like I am. I can’t count how many times I’ve gotten myself off to the thought of him in my throat.

The reality of it, however, involves gagging and an inability to figure out when to breathe versus holding my breath.

His fingers tangle in my hair, and embarrassment heats my cheeks when he pulls me off him.

“This is why I didn’t—” I begin, an apology for being so terrible at it on my lips.

He shakes his head, cutting me off. “Your mouth is fucking perfect, Alex. Just the sight of you on your knees, looking up at me, is almost enough to make me coat your lips in cum.”

I gasp, a thrill of need at the implication running down my spine.

“You like the idea of that?” I nod enthusiastically, the pull of his fingers in my hair bringing pain that isn’t exactly bad. My body’s reaction to it, my cock leaking in my boxers, is something new. “You have to work for it. Slow down and watch your teeth.”

There’s no reluctance in my movement as he urges me back down onto him, and I part my lips the second the warmth of his cockhead touches it.

I never thought I’d be grateful for sin, but the pleasure-filled tremble in his thighs when I lick that spot just under his crown makes me pleased to have seen it in porn I never should’ve been watching.

Before I hit my knees, I hated Drake a little for being right, that I resisted actively involving myself in sexual things. But as I take a deep breath and draw him in as deep as I can without gagging, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I don’t worry about how I’ll feel about it tomorrow. I don’t worry about the consequences to my soul.

Being on my knees for this man makes me feel invincible.

Being the one to draw out the sounds he’s making, the pleading for more, makes me feel like I’ll live forever.

There is absolutely nothing better, nothing more spiritual, than being the one to supply his pleasure.

The blasphemy of that thought doesn’t even register.

“Ah fuck,” he grunts, his hips jolting forward. “I’m going to come, Alex. If you—”

His warning is cut off by a low hum of delight, his salty release coating my tongue.

I can honestly say I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with the first swallow. The second thrills me so much, I can’t resist the urge to hastily pull my own cock out.

I feel like an amateur because two strokes down my length is all it takes, but I somehow manage to keep my mouth on him through my orgasm.

My breaths are heavy as if I just participated in an Olympic relay, and I imagine how I feel when I look back up to him to see heavy-lidded eyes and a dopey grin would be the equivalent of winning the gold.

“You’re a cumslut,” he whispers, a hint of awe rather than degradation in his tone.

I shake my head, rejecting the filthy accusation immediately.

He swipes a finger at the corner of my mouth before dipping the cum-covered digit back to my lips. I understand immediately when my mouth unhinges and I can’t resist the urge to lick his finger.

Chapter 26

Drake

I was ready to put an end to all of it.

Hearing the man confess that he hasn’t done more because he thinks he’ll be bad at it?

Jesus, how could he ever think that?

I was ready to blow before he even got my dick out. His lips on me? Nothing short of a miracle.

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