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He shook his head. “I want this. Come on. I don’t have all night. You keep stalling and I’m going to think you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Fucker.” I chuckled, hating how easily he could make me do that. That electrical storm of excitement kicked up a notch, all of this because it was Whitt, and I was about to blow his fucking mind.
I fought to bury the nerves sprouting up like pesky weeds inside of me. Sure, I was bi-interested and had hooked up with guys, but I hadn’t given a whole lot of blowjobs in my days, and because this was Whitt, I was determined to ace it. He really could compare every other BJ to me, and I’d sure as shit make sure those came up lacking.
I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans. When I got them open, I said, “Lift your hips.”
“Ask nicely,” he countered.
“Lift your fucking hips before I leave you with a hard dick and a bad case of blue balls. This shouldn’t take long. We both know you’re a quick trigger.”
“Fuck you, Tucker. I got off so fast because I didn’t want to be bothered with you.”
Yeah, right.“Lift your hips, and you can shut me up with your dick.”
Apparently, those were the magic words because he did what I said. I tugged his pants and underwear down, tossing them toward the monstrous Christmas tree. Hadn’t they ever heard less was more?
His thick erection already leaked precum on his belly, the head of his dick red. Whitt wasn’t a small guy, definitely bigger than any of the other men I’d fucked around with—his balls heavy with his load—sac tight and pubes perfectly groomed.
“Aww, you manscaped for me?”
“Aren’t you shutting up and sucking my cock?”
“Yeah, I got five minutes.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he had a nice prick, but I didn’t have it in me to compliment him at the moment. I had no business being here, no business wanting him, but the second he texted, I’d said yes, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was walking away.
My gaze firmly locked in his, I bent forward, licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip.
“Fuck,” Whitt gritted out. “Do it again.”
“Only because I want you to think about me every time you come.” This time, I didn’t just lick him, though. I stared at him, challenge in both our gazes as I took Whitt into my mouth. For his part, he didn’t look away, watching me as I bobbed up and down, getting drunk off the taste of his salty skin.
“Ithought this was going to be good?” He quirked a brow, and I was stuck between wanting to swallow him down and kissing the smug look off his handsome face.
“I bet I can suck you better than you can suck me.” I tongued his balls.
“You wish. Why do I still hear you talking?”
“Because you can’t hold my attention?”
He smirked, grabbed his cock with one hand, and held the back of my head with the other, and damn, this shouldn’t be hot, but it was. I let Whitt push me down, let him force his dick back into my mouth.
I was done playing games, done issuing challenges, and ready to drain his balls.
This time, I took him deep, all the way to the back of my throat. Whitt bucked his hips gently, holding my head, and for the first time, I was deep-throating a guy. I choked a few times, but that just seemed to fuel him more—me too, if I was being honest.
I sucked his dick like my life depended on it, like it was a test that I had to pass. Every time his cock hit the back of my throat, I swallowed around him.
Whitt was quieter than I thought he would be, quieter than he had been when we’d fucked Monica. Because it was his first time with a guy? Feeling some kinda way about it being me or because he was a little sad and lonely? Because he was. I could see that, and I wanted to make it better, which was some fucked-up shit if I’d ever heard it.
My eyes watered when he thrust harder. Desire flared brighter in Whitt’s blue eyes. He liked this. I liked it, too, choking on his dick and making him feel good. My own erection was throbbing. My balls felt like they were going to explode. Not gonna lie, my jaw was starting to hurt, and it had been a whole lot more than five minutes.
I let my hand join the party, stroking him off while I blew him. When our eyes clashed and held again, Whitt’s movements becoming jerkier, I knew he was about to lose the war he had with himself, trying to make this last as long as possible.
“Say my name,” I told him, pulling off. “Say my name when you come.”
I couldn’t read the expression on his face as I took him back into my mouth, sucking him like he was my favorite fucking treat.
“No.” Whitt’s hand shot out, trying to grab the arm of the chair but hitting his whiskey on the table and knocking it to the floor. “Fuck…motherfucker…” he groaned, still fighting it, fucking my face and trying not to shoot.
