Page 47 of Seven+Four

He instantly tightens his grip but then lets go to close the car door. A moment later he’s sitting in the driver seat. He turns on the engine, but doesn’t start driving. I catch his eyes slowly sliding down my body, a glint of appreciation in their depths, or is it the drug talking? Not caring about reality or drug-induced make-believe, need swells inside me until I can’t contain it anymore.

“Can I suck your dick?” I ask in a voice hoarse with nerves. I see the words as they come out of my mouth, floating in a line in the air, until they fade like clouds in the wind near his beautiful face.

A few seconds silently pass by, with his dark, intense eyes fixed on me.

I shift until I’m sitting on my knees on the leather seat, facing him. “I’ve never done it, and I really, really want to do it…to you.”

His jaw ticks. “If you expect me to back off because you’re high, you’re mistaken.”

I don’t. I know who Uri is. He’ll protect me from anyone and anything, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.

“I don’t want you to back off. I want you to use my mouth,” I confess boldly.

I lick my lips and glance down at his groin. My chest feels impossibly full, lava swirling down to my balls, making them prickle with anticipation.

“Fuck, how can I say no to that, Baby Blue?” His large hand moves down to his pants, stopping for a moment. When his fingers still don’t move, I look up. He’s searching my face, and he must find what he’s looking for because he finally undoes the buttons. The firstthunksound reveals some brown hair, lighter than I expected. No underwear; the sight makes my mouth fill with saliva. The secondthunkalmost makes me gasp and melt with anticipation. Then the third displays some smooth skin before he whips his dick out.

Holy. Shit.

My attention is laser-focused on it. I imagined he was big, but seeing it up close? Hard for me—which is a mind-fuck—long and thick, pink tip glistening wetly. But the best part is that his beautifully proportionated dick is completely pierced from root all the way to the tip.

He tsks. “Changing your mind?” The taunt goes over my head. I’m too awestruck by the view. I crawl toward him, the little mole on the crown of his dick is calling my name.

I dip down and lick it. The taste of him bursts inside my mouth. Salty, rich, and slick, so damn potent that it takes over all my senses. I lick the next bead of pre-cum that wells out, and the next. I’m tasting Uri, and it’s better than I’ve ever imagined. I could live on his flavor.

“Thirsty, aren’t we? Do you like it?” he hisses.

I nod, keeping my tongue on his crown. My dick is leaking inside my thong, throbbing with desire.

“Drink more, then. Suck on the tip, feed on it.” His voice has become deep and raspy. He’s turned on just like I am.

A deep eagerness simmers through me as I part my lips around his pierced crown, sucking it inside and then nibbling on the piercing with my teeth. He pulls on my braid, wrapping it around his wrist, while his other hand slides over my nape to grab my head. I feel his fingers tightening, sending a delicious sting all over my scalp, but soon the grip loosens.

“Open up now. Watch your teeth,” he instructs me.

“It’s not my first time,” I reassure him.

His body turns rigid, hand pulling my braid back as he glares at me. “All your firsts are supposed to be mine!”

What?My brain is too foggy to process his words.

He lets out a terrifying roar. “I’ll kill them. Breaking all their bones.” I can see the gory intention in his flaming eyes.

“Them?”

“All the motherfuckers who touched you.” The cocaine in my system is telling me to sit on his lap and impale myself on his cock. But the pain his fingers pulling on my hair is giving me feels too good. I want more. I need to provoke him more.

“You have no right to…”

He yanks my head even further, displaying my neck to him. I bite my lip to stifle the moan.

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence unless you want me to go on a murderous rampage, Sari.”

“Of dildos?” I did touch second base with Trent—or was it third base? But it’s better to not tell the overprotective sociopath that.

“What?”

“I practice with my dildo,” I clarify.

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