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“I think it is,” she said softly. “May I touch you?” She knelt before him, not caring that she was kneeling in the slightly damp, slightly muddy path in the center of the greenhouse. All she knew was that she wanted to touch him—to pleasure him. To give him something that would blow his mind.
She really, really wanted to blow his mind.
Once she was kneeling, she slid her other hand up his thigh, her gaze moving up to his face. He seemed paralyzed in a rictus of yearning and . . . fear? Of what? The scars were livid against the high color in his face, the slashes marring the beauty of his features.
Very slowly, she uncurled his fingers from around his cock, releasing his grip. “I want to get a look at you,” she told him in a low voice. “It makes me wet just thinking about this. I remember seeing you, naked and gleaming from the shower, though you weren’t as big then as you are today.” She ran a finger down the length of him, from root to tip, idly exploring.
Pre-cum slid down the head of his cock in response to her touch, and Gretchen sighed with pleasure.
“You’re very big. I like that. I imagine when I take you in my throat, it’s going to be hard to take you deep, isn’t it? I’m going to have to work to fit all of you.” Her fingers brushed against his sac, then she clasped the base of his cock, measuring its girth. “You’ll have to be patient with me.”
And she leaned in and swiped the slick head of his cock with her tongue.
A full body tremble moved through him, and she noticed the hand at his side clenched into a fist. Gretchen looked up at Hunter. “Do you want me to stop? Or can I keep exploring you?”
“I . . . no. Keep . . . going.” His words sounded almost strangled, the tension on his face incredible.
“Good,” she purred, giving his cock a stroke of her hand, squeezing in a mimic of his jerky earlier motions. She heard his sharp intake of breath and was pleased.
And because she wanted to torment him a little more, she leaned in even more and put her mouth on the head of his cock again, sucking the large tip of it into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the crown, enjoying the salty, pleasing taste of him and the way his hand spasmed at his side in response.
Gretchen flicked her tongue over the slit and worked her hand against the base again, gazing up at Hunter. “I love touching you. Tastes so good. Do you want to touch me?”
“I . . .” His hand clenched again.
“It’s okay,” she told him in a soft voice. “Maybe this time I’ll just touch you.” She took him into her mouth again, rubbing her tongue against the vein along the bottom of his cock and taking him deeper into her mouth, then pulling back.
Suddenly, his hand was in her hair and he groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair. Oh, yes. Gretchen felt wetness flood her panties in a fresh wave, and she moaned at his touch.
He flinched and pulled away.
She released him from her mouth and shook her head. “I like it when you touch me. Show me what you want. Please, Hunter.”
And she let her lips rest against the head of his cock, looking up at him and waiting.
The look in his eyes was a mixture of frenzied longing and . . . something else. Anxiety? She wanted to make that look go away, but it would take time. For some reason, sex made the man skittish. She’d have to be
patient.
And she waited.
Ever so slowly, his hand moved back to her hair, all the while his cock pulsed in her hand. His pulse was beating so strong she could feel it through his hot skin. Then he gave her head a subtle nudge forward.
He wanted her to take him deep.
She parted her lips, letting the head of his cock push into her mouth. He groaned again and pushed her head forward with more force.
She took him deep into her mouth, but she hadn’t been stroking his ego; he was big and thick, and she couldn’t take him to the root, not at first. Slowly, she worked him deeper, relaxing her jaw and letting each stroke push a little more, until he was hitting the back of her throat and her lips were meeting her hand, which was still curled at the base of his cock.
Hunter’s entire body began to tremble again and he bit out a curse. He tugged on her hair, trying to pull her backward. “I . . . no. Gretchen . . .”
He was going to come; she knew as much based on the tension in his body and the way he struggled for control. And she wanted to let him know it was okay. So she moaned again and sank deeper onto him, relaxing her jaw to take him deeper.
“Ah!” His hand tightened in her hair, and then she felt his hot come filling her throat. She ignored his efforts to pull away, digging her fingers into his slacks and holding him there until he’d finished.
He panted above her and, with a shudder, the tension left his body.
Gretchen released him, swallowing again, her own body wired with need. It wouldn’t happen tonight, she suspected. It would be too much for him to take in. Tonight was all about Hunter.
