Page 104 of A Little Crush
I hold his stare and do it again, blowing softly, then puckering my lips and kissing the head of his cock. Wetness coats my lips, and I dart out my tongue, tasting it.
“Fuck, Rory.”
Good fuck, I remind myself.
This time, I lick the slit on top, and his eyes roll back in his head. I do it again, tasting him before swirling the flat of my tongue around the tip like it’s an ice cream cone. It’s kind of fun. Feeling his eyes on me. Taking in his stilted breathing. The slight twitches.
“Never pegged you for a tease, Rory Buchanan.”
“Is that what I am?” I whisper.
When he looks down at me again, I open my mouth and let him sink inside. The same salty flavor hits my taste buds, and my core clenches, surprising the hell out of me. Don’t get me wrong. I had a feeling I’d be into this. The idea of giving Jaxon head isn’t exactly an unexplored fantasy of mine, but the realization that it’s true. That I feel so damn empty and turned on in this moment only makes me want to take him deeper. To see how far I can push him. Rubbing my hands along the base of his dick, I bob my head up and down, using my spit as lube. When he hits the back of my throat, I gag and come up, pulling in a lungful of air.
Okay, there’s a point when too far is too far.
Noted.
“Fuck, you okay?” Jaxon asks.
I nod and dive back in, careful not to gag again. It’s easier now that I know what to expect and what my limits are. Up and down. Up and down. Pause and swirl. Again and again. Like some kind of rhythmic dance. Faster. Slower. Shallow, then deep. He lets me explore every inch, and I take full advantage, committing it all to memory, my jaw aching, my clit throbbing. It’s messy and a little uncoordinated, but he must like it because he won’t stop pushing my hair away from my face while cursing under his breath every few seconds. I’m not sure how much time passes, but after a few minutes, his hands find the back of my head and his body grows rigid, proving he’s close. My core clenches again, and Imoan, determined to see what he tastes like. Every. Last. Drop.
“Rory.” I can hear the warning in his voice. The restraint. “Beautiful, I’m close.”
I hollow my cheeks, sucking him harder as my own desire reaches a fever pitch. Seriously, one touch and I’m done for. The smell, the taste, the tug of his hands in my hair. It’s too much, yet not nearly enough.
Another groan rumbles through Jaxon’s chest as his cock tightens even more before it spurts into the back of my throat. I fight the urge to gag from the surprise of it. Realizing what’s happening, I swallow it up, licking and sucking until his erection softens and his grip on my hair eases.
“Rory,” he rasps.
I raise my head, letting him slip from my mouth and wipe the edge of my lips with the back of my hand, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but that was new and really good, I think? But I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. What happens next?
The thought barely filters through me before Jaxon orders, “Come here.” As if I’m a ragdoll, he lifts me up, tugging me into his lap. My legs fall on either side of his hips, and I straddle him at the kitchen table, letting him kiss the shit of me. And maybe it shouldn’t be so hot, the idea of him tasting himself on my tongue, but the thought leaves me lightheaded and so damn turned on, I don’t know what to do with myself.
“Fuck, Beautiful,” he rasps. “Fuck, you have no idea…”
“No idea about what?” I whisper.
“About what you do to me.” He presses his forehead to mine. “No fucking clue.” Cupping the side of my face, he goes in for another kiss and lifts his hips, proving he’s already getting hard again. “Let me make you feel good.”
The possibility of everything he can do to make me feelgood rushes over me in the best way possible, so I give him a nod. “Yes, please.”
Eyes dancing with mirth, he questions, “You want my mouth or my fingers?”
“I want this.” I shift against him again, curious if he feels how hot my pussy is even through my jeans as I lean in for another kiss. He pulls back. Not much. Barely an inch. But it’s enough to feed all my insecurities. “Unless you don’t want to,” I whisper.
“Not why I’m hesitating, Beautiful.”
“Then why are you?” I breathe out.
His attention dips to my mouth. “Because this is something you can only give once.”
“Pretty sure it’s been yours since the beginning.”
With a tortured look, he drags his hands down my sides, and cups my ass. “Rore.”
“I’m on birth control.” I wouldn’t be so blunt if I couldn’t feel him hardening beneath me. It’s clear he wants this. Wants me. Even if it’s only for a little while. So, why won’t he give in? “And I’m not asking for a marriage proposal,” I remind him. “Let me give this to someone who appreciates it. Appreciates me.”
His head rolls forward, and he takes another deep breath before kissing me softly. “Trust me, Beautiful. Appreciating you isn’t the problem.”
