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Gabe glanced down to his straining cock. “Just ignore that. It’ll go away.”
“I don’t want to ignore it,” she breathed, and Gabe almost groaned at the lust in her voice. He wasn’t just horny; he felt fucking triumphant, his beard still damp from her come. He grabbed his crumpled shirt from between the couch cushions and scrubbed it over his chin.
Veronica laughed. “Come here. I want you to fuck me.”
His pulse sped at the words, making the ache in his cock even worse. “Nope. Next time. You’re not even squirming now.”
The lax muscles of her thighs tightened again as if she was aware of the decadent picture she made, sprawled and satisfied on the couch. “You’re right,” she said, giggling. “I’m not squirming. I’m shaking.”
He spread his fingers over her thighs and felt the trembling of her muscles. He’d done that. But he forgot his arrogance when she reached for his cock and stroked him.
“But I want you to come,” she murmured.
“Okay,” he agreed immediately, making her giggle again.
“Are you laughing at me?” he asked.
“Yes. I feel...powerful.” She stroked him again, and his hips pushed toward her despite his effort to control himself. She stroked him one more time before letting him go. “Come here, Gabe.”
She patted the couch and he rose to sit next to her, tugging up his shorts as he did so. But he needn’t have bothered, apparently. She didn’t stay put for long. Veronica went to her knees on the floor and slid her hand into his shorts to wrap her fingers around his cock.
“You don’t have to do that,” he protested, though there was no mistaking the rough need in his voice.
“Do you think I don’t like this?” she asked, echoing his own words back at him. Smiling, she drew his cock free from his shorts. That was all it took. Gabe gave in and slid a hand into her hair.
“Well, if you like it...then kiss me.”
* * *
EVENAFTERWHATthey’d just done, heat rushed to her face at his words. The words made it real. She was really kneeling at his feet; she was really about to put her mouth around his thick, hard cock.
She’d done it with other men. One guy in college and one a couple of years ago in New York. But with Gabe, it was a different kind of nervousness. His hand was gentle in her hair, and he seemed patient despite the raw need that tightened the skin around his eyes. And he was so beautiful. His brown eyes and dark beard and his muscled shoulders. Everything about him was perfect all the way down to his erection.
For the first time ever, this felt like something she wanted, not something she was willing to do. Was that how he’d felt, kneeling between her legs? That he wanted his mouth on her?
She shivered a little at the memory of that pleasure. Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the crown of his cock. He smelled delicious. That was the first thing she noticed. Like soap and clean skin, yes, but with a subtle, unfamiliar musk that made her mouth water. He smelled like sex.
She kissed him again, a simple press of her lips, and Gabe sighed.
“God, you look so pretty,” he whispered.
Her face flamed again. She liked it. She liked him telling her pretty things while she did something filthy.
She squeezed his cock again, glancing at him to see if he liked it. From the way he gritted his teeth, she’d guess that he did. A clear bead of liquid appeared at the tip of his cock when she stroked. With one last nervous glance at his face, she pressed her mouth there and tasted him.
When she licked, the salt of his precome covered her tongue and made her mouth water even more. She slowly licked all the slick, salty liquid from his skin and loved the way he hissed in response.
Feeling more confident now, she lapped at the head of his cock one more time, and then she wrapped her lips around him. He was heavy against her tongue, heavy and warm as she slid her mouth over him.
“Veronica,” he murmured. “God, that feels good.”
Yes. Yes, she wanted it to feel so good for him. She thought of how he hadn’t stopped licking her despite her protest. Of how he’d sucked and tasted and kissed her as if he’d loved every second. She thought of that and sucked him deeper into her mouth.
His fingers spasmed against her hair, but he didn’t tighten his grip. He only touched her, as if steadying her for his cock.
She moved her mouth up and down, sucking at him, but she felt unsure. She wanted to be as good to him as he’d felt to her, and there must be more to being good than this. Or maybe not. After all, she didn’t get letters from men complaining about technique, only from women.
Still, her mind began to work. She couldn’t tell if he loved it. She stopped enjoying it. She started to worry and lost all the tight, hot feelings that had started building inside her again.
