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“We shouldn’t risk you tearing your stitches.”
“Fuck my stitches. They can replace them,” he grunts.
“Noah.” My laugh is quiet, breathy. “I can help ease your ache without busting your stitches.”
His eyes flare, darkening to a brown bordering on black. “Go on, then.”
With his approval hanging in the air, I push myself down his legs until I’m straddling his shins. Holding his heated stare, I pull the blanket from his waist before doing the same to both his sweatpants and underwear. The view of his cock leaves me breathless, as if I’m seeing it for the first time all over again. In a way, I am.
The two designs that now mark the skin of his groin have my heart stalling, my lungs two chunks of ice. The last section of un-inked skin is now etched with my name in a branding of sheer possession.
“Happy birthday,” he coos.
My eyes flick up. “When did you do this?”
“Do you like them?” He ignores my question.
“Yes.” I touch my pointer finger to the edge of the shooting star on the right. It’s still ringed with red and a bit swollen, so he had to have gotten it really recently. “Are you sure you won’t regret them?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” he growls.
I touch the left tattoo, this time running my finger over the top of it. “You still haven’t put your piercing back in.”
“I was a bit busy.”
The bluntness of his statement makes me snort a very unattractive laugh. “Fair enough.”
“You’re stalling.”
“You’re impatient.”
“I have you bent over my lap with my cock in your face.”
I smirk, drifting my touch toward said appendage. It shouldn’t be possible, but he’s grown even harder since I tugged his pants down. My tongue darts out as if it has a mind of its own and swipes at the pearl of liquid on the tip. His taste fills my mouth at the same time I’m wrapping a fist around the shaft and squeezing on the first upstroke. He’s hot and smooth in my hand, and my body reacts to the feel of him, a sharp throb growing between my legs.
“I fucking missed you,” he grunts, his cock jerking in my fist.
I look up at him through my lashes as I lick him again, sweeping my tongue along the underside of the head and then over the slit. His fingers dig through my hair and over my scalp before gripping the strands and pulling, encouraging me to take him into my mouth.
Considering what he did for me today, I don’t make him beg. I shift forward and slowly work him between my lips. His shuddered curse when I get halfway down the shaft encourages me to open my throat and attempt to take him all the way. I end up gagging when the tip hits the back of my throat—still unable to accomplish my goal—and he throbs in response.
“That’s it, baby. Choke on your cock,” he orders through clenched teeth.
I release a needy moan around his shaft and pull back, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard on the tip before diving back down. Over and over, I work him into my mouth, jerking what I can’t reach with my hand. His breathing grows frantic, the grip on my hair so tight it burns and makes my eyes water, but I don’t stop. His response to me only makes me go faster and suck harder. My tongue explores the ridges and bulging veins along the length of him, memorizing the spots that have him thrusting his hips to meet my every downward glide.
His cock muffles another of my moans, and then he’s trying to take control with a hard thrust that pushes him deeper than I’ve been able to take him before. Spit runs down my chin as I gag and dig my fingers into his slicked shaft.
“Going to paint your throat with my cum, Golden Girl. Want your belly full of it.”
I rub my thighs together and abandon my grip on his length to cup his balls. One soft roll of them in my palm and he’s forcing my face into his groan and coming down my throat in harsh, throbbing pulses. It goes on for several seconds, until I’ve swallowed so much of it so quickly that I can’t keep up. Some leaks from the corner of my lips, but he’s catching it with his thumb before it can drip down my chin.
“Unbelievable,” he says on an exhale. “You’re unbelievable.”
I pull back when he begins to soften and take a gulp of air before he’s pressing his thumb into my mouth, on my tongue.
“Swallow all of it, Tinsley,” he commands.
With a roll of my eyes, I make a show of sucking on his finger and then sticking my tongue out for him to see. “Happy?”
