Page 59 of The Science of Attraction

“I’m not complaining.” He kissed his way up my stomach and chest to my lips, then settled in for a long, slow mauling before finally pulling off. “I like that no one has had you in a while.” He kissed my cheeks and my nose. “I like even better that I’m the first guy to have the privilege.”

I cradled his face. “I like that too. More than I probably should considering your time on the station is limited.”

He frowned, then kissed me again. “Can’t say I’m thrilled about the idea either.” He kissed each eyelid, then pressed his face into my neck, sighing contentedly.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I shoved him unceremoniously to the side and took the measure of his cock. “It’s my turn. I’m done waiting, and that beauty is all mine tonight.”

He snorted. “Is that right?”

“Shut up.” I tapped his dick back and forth like a metronome. “You don’t get to have all the fun, although fuck knows there are a million ways I can screw this up, so I apologise in advance.”

I took his cock in hand and, as always, I was struck by the solid weight of it. But before I could do anything more than look, Liam’s hand cupped my cheek. No smile now, but in its place was something far too tender and unexpected to dwell on.

“There is no way in hell you can screw this up,” he said in the softest voice. “I almost creamed myself just watching you come. I know it’s going to be perfect before you even start.” He drew me close and kissed me gently, his thumb grazing back and forth along my cheek. “But don’t be gentle.” He pulled back and shot me a wink. “I like it on the rough side.”

I snorted. “Surprise, surprise. Any other instructions?”

He huffed out a laugh, plumped the pillow under his head so he could watch, and then circled his hand in the air. “Have at it, gorgeous.”

Don’t be gentle.

Well, okay then.

I knew how Liam tasted and I wanted more.

Beginning to end.

How hard could it be?

With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock to steady it, I played with his foreskin a little, fascinated as always by the silky feel as it slid up and down over the head of his cock. It had become one of my favourite things to do, Liam’s too, judging by the way he twitched and moaned as I worked the delicate tissue.

When he was purring nicely, I lowered my mouth over his length until I could barely breathe around the fullness, spurred ever deeper by the soft groans falling from his lips. It was too much and not enough, all at the same time. Sensory overload and a desperate craving for more.

I had the sense of watching myself from afar but with none of the self-conscious anxiety I’d expected. None of the questions. None of the awkward concern that I might be making a mistake. Nothing but need, and want, and desire, and the worry that I was going to somehow fuck this amazing moment up.

I tried to take him deeper, gagging as the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I choked and jerked away, spluttering. “Sorry. I?—"

“Hey. None of that.” Liam stroked my hair. “Baby steps, remember? Your mouth feels so good. So hot. You can’t get this wrong. You’ve got nothing to prove. Not with me.”

His words calmed me.You’ve got nothing to prove.And I realised he was right. I took a big breath and went down on him again, not quite so deep but strengthening the suction on the way back up. He groaned, his hands tightening around my head, and fuck that felt good—the slide of his cock through my mouth, the salty tang on my tongue, and knowing I was responsible for all those filthy sounds he was making above me.

I was in charge ofhispleasure now, and it didn’t get any better than that. Watching Liam fall apart in my hands, I was pretty sure I’d never get enough. I was going to make it good for him if it fucking killed me. I could see the headlines—man found with cock stuck in his throat and a smile on his face. I could think of worse ways to go.

I doubled down on my effort, and after a few more slides, I again tried taking him deeper. Sometimes I managed, sometimes I gagged, but fuck if I was giving up. And he guided me all the way. His fingers fisting my hair sometimes with a groan, sometimes just this cute little grunt when I got things just right. When I was missing the mark, he fell quiet, his hands soft around my head.

Don’t be gentle.

My teeth lightly grazed his length and his breathing stuttered.

“F-fuuuuck... yes... that.” His fingers knotted around a loop of my hair and so I did it again, scraping my nails along his sac as well, just for good measure. His hips bucked off the bed, which slammed his cock down my throat, and I choked and pulled off. He dropped down, full of apology. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” He tried to pull me up but I pushed him away.

“I’m fine.” And I chased his dick back into my mouth.

“Well, okay then.” He chuckled and got up on his elbows to watch.

I met his gaze with a determined one of my own, taking him as deep as I could, running my tongue over his slit while fisting him at his base, watching those beautiful eyes darken to black.

“Fuck, Jules. You look amazing.” And when my wet finger slid behind his balls and dipped into his hole, his head fell back with a guttural groan. “God, yessss,” he hissed, squirming to get me deeper, the hot grip around my finger raising images of me fucking him for real, or him fucking me, and when the hell had that become a thing?

---