Page 77 of The Bachelor

And when I couldn’t wait another second, I released her fingers and lips, and I returned my palms to the wall. “Now, take what you’ve been asking for.”

“With pleasure.” Her hand left my cock. “God, finally.”

Since she was positioned against the brick, all she did was slide down, reaching up to get at me. She started with my belt buckle, followed by my button and zipper. When she tried to lower my boxer briefs, I slipped my cock through the hole—something I wasn’t sure she knew about, but that kind of training was for a day when there was more light.

Her hand was so delicate as it circled my shaft, her breathing speeding up as she lowered to my sac. “My God, Camden, you’re huge. This is never going to fit inside me.”

“It will. I fucking promise you that.”

I would do anything to be able to gaze down and see her face as she eyed my length and width, to view her expression as she contemplated what it was going to feel like when I took her virginity.

But this alley of darkness prevented that.

I could only see tiny specks of her face, a glimmer from the whites of her eyes.

I had to rely solely on feel.

“Now, suck,” I told her, holding the back of her head, leading her to my cock.

Every bit of movement came as a surprise. There was no way to prepare for it.

That was why I hissed the second she wrapped both hands around my base, aiming my erection toward her mouth.

“Mmm,” she moaned.

I felt her breath.

Her lips.

And then that moan continued as she took in my tip, the inside of her mouth vibrating over me. With it came an instant heat. Suction. Wetness. Like I was inside her cunt, but I could feel the thickness of her tongue as she used it to rotate around my head.

“Fuuuck.” I pounded my fist against the brick. “Just like that, but go deeper.”

I wanted to give her the freedom to make decisions. I wanted her to choose where she wanted to go and how she wanted to do this.

But there was pure alpha in my blood.

I couldn’t give up the control.

And Oaklyn couldn’t help but listen and take my demands because she did exactly what I’d told her, swallowing a few more inches, bobbing over that new amount of space.

It felt incredible.

The feel of her skin.

The warmth of her mouth.

The pressure she was using.

Fuck, I could come right now.

“Yes,” I urged her on. “Fucking yes.”

I could feel the slickness of her hair as it got caught between her hands and lips, so I bunched her locks and held it behind her head. “Now, use your hands. Get them wet so they slide easier. And what you can’t cover with your mouth, rub with your palms.”

She raised her hands to my tip, where I assumed she was collecting some of her spit, and pumped my shaft. She was soft but needy with her strokes, and every time she lowered and rose, I rocked my hips forward, driving my dick through her grip. While her hands did the hard labor, her tongue stayed on my crown. Sometimes flicking back and forth. Sometimes circling. Sometimes staying flat.

But with each push, I moaned.

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