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He tangled his hands in my hair, and said, “Hands to my hips, Willa.”
My palms hit his hips with a smack.
“Lick the head, Willa. No lips, just your tongue.”
I leaned forward and licked the precum from the tip, then licked the underside. It was hard to get to, I moved to take him in my mouth, just to hold him still so I could continue my exploration with my tongue. He pulled back firmly on my hair.
“Just your tongue, angel, let me feel just your tongue first,” he rasped.
I gave him what he wanted, licking around the head as best as I could, even as it jerked away from me. I flicked the underside with the tip of my tongue, flattened my tongue on the broad head.
“Lick me from base to slit, slowly.”
I dragged my tongue, sweeping back and forth, slowly to the tip.
“Open your mouth, angel... wider,” he instructed.
I opened and waited, he leaned toward me, resting the head on my bottom lip.
“Do. Not. Suck,” he commanded, his voice deeply strained.
I conceded with my eyes as he used my hair to tip my head back and slid the head of his cock just past my lips. He groaned, my eyes flew to his face, and my pussy spasmed. He met my eyes and my lids fluttered shut. I relaxed my neck and gave myself over to him.
“Yes, Willa,” he hissed through his teeth and pushed past my lips, rubbing the head of his cock against the roof of my mouth. I felt him tremble beneath my palms. My lethal Viking was trembling under my hands, under my tongue. I moved my hands around to his ass to pull him closer.
“Hands, Willa!” he barked, grasping my hair to hold me still and pulling out to the tip.
I nodded quickly, opened my mouth wider, tipped my head back and rested my hands lightly at the front of his hips. He pushed past my lips quickly, shallow thrusts against the roof of my mouth before pulling out to the tip and doing it again.
My thighs were wet from my juices and trembling, my fingers flexed into his groin. I surrendered to his will, letting go of my own desire to pull him deeply into the cavern of my mouth and fill myself with him.
“Willa, can I go deeper?” he gritted out.
I gave a tiny nod, not wanting to lose him.
“Do you have a strong gag reflex?”
I shook my head slightly in the negative and he huffed out a breath. I shifted my weight back and forth on my knees, desperate to continue.
“Relax your throat,” he instructed. He pushed forward slowly, relentlessly, until he hit the back of my throat.
“Breathe through your nose, angel, nice and easy,” he rumbled, his fingers massaging my scalp.
He groaned. “Swallow, Willa, swallow against the head.”
I swallowed and his hands tightened almost painfully in my hair. Wet slid down my thigh. I swallowed again. He slowly pulled out all the way. My eyes flew to his face, thinking I did something wrong. I looked up at him questioningly. The curtain of his hair framed his face on one side, the muscles in his chest bulged, his stomach tensed, his forearms flexing as he massaged my scalp.
“I’m getting close, angel,” he whispered, the grooves deeply entrenched on his forehead.
“I want it,” I assured him.
“You sure?” he seemed to hold his breath.
I could give him this. I wanted to give him this.
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Open,” he rumbled deeply.
