Page 58 of Delayed Penalty

Opening my mouth, I stick my tongue out and wait, letting him make the first move, but showing him I know exactly what my task is in this moment and just how eager I am to do a good job.

Stepping forward, he guides his cock between my lips, sliding in slowly until he reaches the back. Pulling out, he repeats the motions at the same torturous pace, over and over, a pace that’s maddening for me but I can slowly see his restraint falter as his orgasm starts to build.

“Fuck, Avery,” he groans out as I close my lips around his cock, his hands moving to my hair and holding me in place as I continue sucking him in as far as he can go.

It’s not my fault that sucking cock is probably just as enjoyable for me as it is for him… well, that’s not entirely true. I don’t just love sucking anyone's cock, Harris’s in particular just does it for me. I feel strong and powerful knowing I can make this grown-ass man moan just from giving him a blow job.

“Look at you, on your knees for me like a goddamn angel,” he says, his hips thrusting a little harder, a little farther as hepushes past the resistance at the back of my throat. His words spur me on, though, as I hold him still, swallowing down to push him a little further.

“Touch yourself. I want you to make yourself come like this. I want you to come with my cock in your throat, my baby in your belly, and my ring on your finger. Just like it’s always supposed to be.”

That’s all it takes. Slipping my fingers into my shorts I immediately circle my clit before sliding two fingers inside. Letting my thumb continue to tease my clit, I focus my attention on the task at hand and work on taking him down further and further each time. I’m earning my reward. When he comes down my throat it’s going to be because I deserve his cum.

It doesn’t take much after that, as Harris slides all the way in, my nails digging into his thigh as I do my best not to gag. I don’t pull back, though; I don’t ask him to stop knowing I’m still in full control of this situation.

I want the struggle.

I want to give him everything he craves.

That realization, mixed with my fingers inside me and his cock in my throat, is enough to feel my legs start to quiver, the sensation building.

This is so fucking hot—so much better than my vibrator.

Looking up, his eyes are on me, watching me intently with such adoration, something that looks so much like love in his eyes—I lose it. My orgasm crashes into me, pulling me under as my entire body feels overwhelmed by the intensity. His eyes darken as his grip tightens on my hair and I can tell he’s teetering on the edge, nearly ready to freefall into the depths of pleasure.

With my free hand I grab his balls, hoping that his likes haven’t changed too much over the years, I give them a little tug as I hold him in, letting his cock sit in the back of my throat.

As soon as I slide out, he thrusts in three last times, each one more frantic than the last, before spilling cum down my throat. I finish him off, licking him until there’s nothing left, making sure not to waste any of his cum.

I earned that shit.

Pulling back, he looks down at me, a wild contradiction with his boyish grin and lust filled eyes, it’s sexy. Lifting me up in a quick move, I wrap my legs around him as he turns the shower off. Grabbing a towel, he walks us into his bedroom. Setting me down on his bed, he dries me off before slipping a t-shirt on for me and laying me down on his pillow.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Cuddling my two favorite people,” he says as he steps into a pair of boxer briefs and slides into his bed.

I’m shocked silent, which isn’t a common occurrence for me. Sliding in next to me, I lay my head down on his chest, the strong muscles beneath me, his heart beats loud and strong, a calming noise that has me nearly falling asleep instantly.

This is what a relationship is supposed to feel like. This is what happiness is. It’s being yourself, being comfortable, and never worrying about not being accepted because the person you’re in with loves you enough.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, all at once as I lie in this warm bed wrapped around Harris.

Son of a bitch.

I’m in love with this motherfucker. In fact, I’m not sure I ever stopped.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harris

The end of summer has always been my favorite time of the year because it means we are that much closer to playing in hockey full time, but this year it’d be sort of nice if time could slow down just a little bit. It just feels like it’s coming fast, and I know it’s because of how chaotic my life has been these last few months. It’s only been two months since I found out Avery and I are expecting; but since then we’ve gotten married, she moved in, and we’ve been fostering Luna for a while, so it’s been pretty much nonstop.

Not to mention, the tension between us has been so thick I’ve damn near needed a straw to breathe through since our little shower adventure. I’ve wanted to have a repeat every night since then, but instead we’ve spent the last week watching reruns ofBones. I tried to get her to watchHarry Potterwith me again like we did in college, but she reminded me there was something wrong about watching it in August or September, and October is the month to have the marathons.

I added it to the calendar on my fridge, don’t want her to forget.

Today feels like the last big day before things can sort of level out for a bit, starting with the worst part of the entire day. Mrs.Andrews asked how Luna was doing and when I told her how well she was doing, she mentioned that Luna should come back to get ready for the adoption event next weekend. Avery was less than pleased but understood Mrs. Andrews needs to do what’s best for Luna—and finding her forever home is at the top of that list.

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