Page 35 of Saved by Him

I leaned against him, and he slid his arm around my shoulders. He’d turned on some music when we first came inside, and it made for nice background sound as we sipped our wine. As much as I’d enjoyed our date, this was nice too. I could relax here with him and not worry about all the things that wanted to crowd into my head.

“I like this,” he said as he set aside his glass. “Being here with you at the end of the day.”

“Me too,” I said.

I turned my face into his chest and breathed in, filling my lungs with the scent of him. The faint smell of laundry detergent under the clean sweat from our long walk. Pine and snow. And him. All of it merged into something that made my belly clench and the space between my legs throb.

He brushed his fingers through my hair. “It’s a couple inches longer than it was when we first met.”

I shifted so that I could look up at him without losing the contact between us. “I used to have it short, but when I left Quantico, I grew it out.”

He studied my face for a moment, and I wondered if he was trying to picture me with short hair. “I think you’d look good with any length hair, but I can’t lie and say I don’t like being able to use it.”

His eyes locked with mine, and he wrapped his fingers in my hair, tighter and tighter until I let out a hiss of pain. I didn’t understand how he knew exactly how far to take me, how much was enough. I didn’t know where the line was, but he’d never crossed it, never made me ask him to back off. Something in his gaze told me he was about to dance close to it, and damn if the thought didn’t make me wet.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice low. “We can finish our wine, bring in my tree, decorate it, and then I can take you home. It will still have been a great night.”

“It will,” I agreed, “but I think we can do better than great.”

Using my hair, he maneuvered me to the floor, positioning me on my knees between his legs. His gaze flicked to the bulge in his jeans, then up to my face, telling me all I needed to know about what the next step should be. My hands shook as I reached for his zipper, but it wasn’t nerves or fear. It was pure anticipation.

I freed his cock, licking my lips as it came into view. Jalen groaned, his grip on my hair tightening. A zing of pleasure went through me, and I leaned down, darting my tongue out to taste the tip.

“Fuck!” Jalen growled, his hips jerking.

The pressure against the back of my head told me what he wanted, but I knew he’d wait for me to let him know it was okay. I nodded and waited for him to guide me again. I rested my hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs as he pushed my head down. The muscles in his legs bunched beneath the denim, reminding me of just how strong this man was, and how good. Even now, taking control like this, he kept his strength in check, careful to never take things to the point where he was truly hurting me.

I opened my mouth only wide enough for the thick shaft to pass between my lips. He stopped me halfway, and I circled his cock with my tongue, tracing every inch I could reach. His breathing quickened, and he yanked on my hair again, making me take him deeper. I almost gagged as he reached the back of my throat, but I managed to relax by reminding myself that he’d stop if it was too much. Little by little, his cock disappeared into my mouth and throat until my nose brushed against the dark curls that surrounded the base.

“Fuck, Rona.” The words came out choked, as if he was the one who could barely breathe.

He pulled me up, his dick falling from my mouth with a wet sound. It bobbed in the air, slick and full, and I wanted nothing more than to climb on his lap and sink down on it. Then again, there was something I wanted more. I wanted to please him, which meant I’d wait until he told me what he wanted of me.

“You’ve got such a hot mouth,” he said, running his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want to come in it. Watch you swallow every drop. I want you to taste me on your tongue when I take you upstairs, lick you until you’re begging for release, and then take your ass.”

Shit. Hearing him talk like that was almost enough to make me come. “Yes, please,” I said, my voice ragged from desire or from taking him into my throat. More likely both.

He put both hands on my head this time, guiding me down until the tip brushed my lips. I opened again, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he raised his hips, driving his cock into my mouth fast enough to make me cough. He hesitated, and I gave him a thumbs up, the only way I could think to let him know that I was okay. He gave me a wicked sort of smile before his hips snapped forward. He kept his eyes on me as he held my head in place, fucking my mouth. Some of the thrusts were deep, and I struggled to keep from pushing him away, but others were shallow, and I used my tongue to give him extra friction.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, the words low and rough. “Swallow it all, and I’ll make you come twice before I take your ass.”

I wrapped my lips tight around him and sucked hard. He cursed, and I let my teeth graze the sensitive skin, giving him what he needed to explode. His cum flooded my mouth, and I swallowed the salty liquid, remembering his promise. I looked up at him and knew that even if he hadn’t made it, I would have done the same just to see that look of bliss on his face.

Jalen was, though, a man of his word.

After a few quiet minutes where he waited for his legs to start working again, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me, a deep and thorough kiss that left no room for doubt about how much he’d enjoyed what I’d done. When we were both breathless, we went upstairs to his room, and he set to work making good on his promise to give me two orgasms.

As I came down from my second toe-curling climax of the night, I became aware that Jalen had left the bed and was rummaging around in a drawer. It was only then that I remembered the second part of what he’d said, what would come after my orgasms.

“Bend your knees and hold your legs open,” he instructed as he came back over to the bed.

I did as he said, flushing at how the position exposed me. It wasn’t embarrassment, really, but rather a feeling that Ishouldbe embarrassed, that I shouldn’twanthim to do this. I wasn’t a prude, and I didn’t have any moral objections to anal sex. It was the trust that went with it. The trust that he would make me feel good. That this wasn’t a form of humiliation but rather of intimacy.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will,” he promised as he knelt on the bed. “This will be a bit cold.”

“Oh!” I yelped as he slicked something cool and wet against my anus.

“It’ll warm up in a minute.”

---