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“Yeah.”
My hand caressed his soft skin, marveling at the contrast between metal and skin.
“Addy, you’re killing me here.”
Right. Back on task. Dipping down, I got my first taste, mouthing the head before taking him between my lips. Damn, he was big. After licking up and down his piercings, I moved to his balls, lavishing attention on the sensitive skin and appreciating the way he slapped his palm against the wall as if he needed extra support to remain standing.
“Show me how deep you can take me,” came his authoritative voice.
I hollowed my cheeks and swallowed him as deep as I could. My first attempt got me three quarters of the way.
“That’s it. Relax your throat and breathe through your nose.”
The way he instructed me was hot. The way he placed his hand gently on top of my hair, moving it out of the way so it didn’t obstruct his view. The sensations were unlike anything I’d ever experienced. This time on the way down, I gagged, but his moan at the effort was well worth it. Making a detour, I laved attention on his balls before taking his shaft back into my mouth. Bobbing up and down, I enjoyed the way his legs began to shake.
As I paused to work him with my hand, were my lips starting to burn? My brain finally caught up with the sensation, and it started to magnify like they were on fire.
“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, his gaze on me.
“I don’t know. Did you use a lotion or something that would burn my lips?” Crap. My eyes started to water.
“Not at all.”
Then it dawned on me. “It might be the lip gloss.”
“What?”
I climbed to my feet. “My lips are on fire.”
As if in slow motion, both of our gazes fell to his cock and balls, coated in the offending gloss.
“Fuck, it’s burning me now too. What the hell was in that stuff?”
He turned, so focused on his burning junk he forgot about the fact his jeans were around his calves and nearly went timber in the forest like a tree. “Shit.”
Leo shimmied like a big-ass penguin to the bathroom I’d just left. The sight would have been hilarious if the flames of hell weren’t scorching his junk.
Once inside, with me on his heels, he grabbed a washcloth, doused it in water from the sink, and frantically rubbed at his pierced dick.
I took another washcloth, wetting it and scrubbing away what gloss was left on my lips. But I realized the majority of it had been transferred during what had to be the worst blow job on the planet.
“What the fuck was in it?” No longer patient with the washcloth, he quickly stripped out of his clothes, flipped on the shower, and climbed in before the water could have been heated. If it weren’t for the rapidly degenerating situation, I might’ve been able to appreciate his perfectly muscled body covered in tattoos.
“I’m not sure. Malorie gave it to me to plump my lips.”
“Christ, and you thought to put that shit on before giving me a blow job?”
His back was turned toward me, his victimized parts doused in the main stream of the water.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling like the biggest loser on the planet.
“Is there anything you do that isn’t a complete disaster?” he retorted, lathering up and frantically washing the burning gloss off his testicles.
Forget humiliation and go straight to shame. He was spot-on. I was a walking, talking hot mess. An epic creator of mishaps, involving every single thing I did.
The only thing I could do now was fly out of the bathroom, grab my bag, and leave. Tears filled my eyes as I frantically got into my car.
After crying for the first few blocks, I wiped my tears. So this was rock bottom. I’d burned a man’s dick with my lip gloss.
