Page 38 of Old Money

She moans as my precum spills out into her mouth, slurping and swallowing and making me spiral as she does. She digs her nails into my ass then uses one hand to cup my balls before she wraps her long fingers around my cock.

“Fuck, Sawyer,” I grunt as she takes me deeper, gagging as I get dangerously close to the back of her throat. I feel myself growing harder and thicker with every suck, and I instinctively take a handful of her hair, gently fisting it as she moves.

“S-Sawyer, Sawyer,” I say, tapping her arms and loosening my grip on her hair. She comes up, flipping the blanket off her and wiping her mouth then the tears pooling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. I shake my head.

“Nothing at all, but if you didn’t stop, your mouth was going to be full,” I say, stroking her cheek. She raises one eyebrow, looking at me.

“That was sort of the point,” she says. Now I raise an eyebrow at her.

“You want that?” I ask. She makes a face at me and crosses her arms over her chest.

“If I didn’t want that, I probably wouldn’t have started my day by putting your dick in my mouth,” she says. I chuckle again.

“Putting my dick in your mouth and getting meoffin your mouth are two different things, sweetheart,” I tell her. She crosses her arms tighter over her chest.

“I’m aware,” she says, her lips pursed. Suddenly, I feel this green rage building inside of me. I grip her hips.

“So you’ve done that before?” I ask, my voice low and husky.

Her eyes narrow on me as she bites the inside of her lip. She looks as if she’s slightly afraid to answer the question but also that she wants to see how I react.

“Many times,” she says. Then she leans forward, putting one hand on my chest and pushing me back down. “Is that a problem? You wanna keep talking about all the other guys I’ve gone down on, or may I continue?”

I push up, gripping the back of her head and pulling her to me. I kiss her hard and possessively, my tongue plunging into her mouth. The thought of her doing this with anyone else has every muscle in my body tensing up and my fists clenching.

“Knees,” I say. “Now.”

Her eyes dance with excitement as she scrambles off the bed, tucking her hair behind her ears as I scoot to the edge.

“Thattagirl,” I say as she opens her mouth, guiding me back in. I hiss as she takes me deep, making up for lost time. I grip her hair again, watching as she moves up and down my shaft. She gags, and I hiss again, her eyes flying open. “Do you need to stop, baby?”

She looks up at me, eyes filling with tears, but she digs her nails into my legs and shakes her head no.

I cock my head as I stroke her face.

“Can you handle this load, sweetheart?” I ask. She nods slowly as she speeds up her movements, pausing every now and then to circle my head with her tongue before taking all of me into her mouth again. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I’m…I’m almost there,” I hiss, scooting farther off the bed and deeper into her mouth. I pull her head to me gently, dropping my head back as her hand moves up to cradle my balls again, and that’s all it takes for me to blow. I fold over, a shudder going through me as I erupt, and she gulps me down, sliding off me slowly and taking in a deep breath. I lean forward, swiping the moisture from the corner of her mouth with my thumb, and then cup her head in my hands, catching my breath for a minute.

“What a perfect, dirty little mouth you have, my girl,” I say with a smile as I lean forward and kiss her. “I love how good you are at that, but Ihatehow good you are at that. I tighten my grip on her. “I want you to forget about anyone else you’ve ever done that to.”

She smiles.

“Territorial, are we?”

I pull her in for one last kiss.

“You have no idea.”

And the truth is, neither do I. I have never been attached to someone like this, let alone given a shit about who else they’d had in their bed. Or their mouth. The thought of her on her knees for someone else is enough to make me put a hole in the wall. But the thought of someone else pleasuringher? Put me in a goddamn asylum.

I know I’m supposed to be giving her time. No pressure. Being with me would be a lot to swallow—pun intended. But the problem is, I’m starting to get scared. The decision is in her hands, and I am terrified that I won’t be her choice.

SAWYER

I’m getting way too comfortable waking up next to him. For the last few weeks, either I’m in his bed, or he’s in mine. Obviously, I’m not one to complain about waking up in the most expensive penthouse in Manhattan on the regular, with amazing sex at night and professionally cooked meals in the morning. He drives me to my shifts at the mini-mart when I have them and usually arranges his meeting schedule around my pick-ups. Sometimes he takes a meeting from one of our apartments, and I just sit in awe, watching him run the world from the comfort of the pull-out couch he bought me.

I love watching him work. I love how he carries himself. I love listening in on how he treats his employees. Nothing like the ruthless, infamous persona of his father that I’ve seen on TV, but more gentle. He listens. He asks them questions. He has faith in them.

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