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Closing my eyes, I suck harder, cradling my tongue against his length as my lips slide back and forth along his length. A growl escapes him, and he pulls tighter on my hair, matching his hips with my movements.
“Jesus… Christ…”
His cock twitches, and his body shudders.
I moan from the feeling of pain shooting through the back of my head as he pulls harder on my hair.
A roar erupts from his chest.
“You don’t have the slightest idea of what I’m fully capable of,” he says through clenched teeth, and I lick the tip of his crown, savoring the taste of him. “Fuck… Yes.”
Moving my hands from his waist to his member, he swats them away, gripping the back of my head. He thrusts his hips forward, pumping into my mouth.
Harder. Faster.
Air.
I need air.
Gripping his pants, I hold on for dear life, breathing in through my nose to satisfy my deprived lungs.
“Fuck,” he bites out, thrusting in farther. “Yes, that’s right. Suck my cock as if your life depends on it.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold my breath, giving in wholeheartedly. Bobbing my head, meeting his thrusts, gliding my tongue along as many inches as I can handle.
Choking on him. Gagging.
And he finds his release down the back of my throat in long spurts. Finally, he releases his grip on my hair, and steps back.
My tingling lips part as I try to catch my breath, sitting back on my feet. Waiting for his next instruction.
After fixing himself back into his dress pants, he smooths out his tailored, navy blue suit.
And his eyes find mine.
“I should be back before dinner,” he says, buttoning his suit jacket. “Have dinner waiting for me on the table.”
“Y—yes, Sir,” I stammer, watching him carefully as he leaves the room.
Rushing to my feet, I sit back in the chair, taking a sip of coffee to wash away the taste of salt. The sound of the front door closing echoes through the hallways of the house, and I realize I’m alone.
In Jaxon Edward’s mansion.
In beautiful California.
With five thousand dollars.
My heart leaps in my chest as I bolt to the kitchen, spotting a white envelope on the counter. Sliding out the large bills halfway, my heart flutters. My breathing becomes erratic.
A wide smile claims my face.
“Shit,” I gasp, looking down at the cash in awe.
This is my signing bonus.
And this is just the beginning.
Dancing in the kitchen, and laughing like a little girl, my gaze wanders to the piece of paper with his driver’s number.
