Page 71 of Chicago Sin
As if reading my mind, he says, “Put those lips of yours around my cock.”
I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and swirl my tongue around the head. His erection juts out, suddenly thickening and lengthening in my hand.
“Oh fuck.” he mutters, nostrils flaring, breath coming in sharply.
He fists my hair and tugs my head back, so my eyes lock with his. Heat floods between my legs. I’m turned on by the power I have over him and how much he has over me. I’m excited by how much pleasure I’m going to give him.
I hold his gaze as I slowly tighten my lips around his head and sink them lower.
His groan sounds pained. “Aw, Hannah.” His fingers tangle in my hair and ball into a fist. “You—” he chokes as he pulls my head forward to take him in again.
It’s another show of sexual domination. If you’d asked me before if I’d like it, I would’ve said no fricking way, but I do. Even as I’m slightly offended by the seeming lack of gratitude, by having my mouth used like nothing more than a fuck-hole, my pussy runs with arousal, my tightened nipples tingle, and I swirl my tongue around the underside of his cock with enthusiasm.
“Good girl, Hannah,” he chants. “That’s so fucking good. You’re such a good girl.” It’s the third time he’s called me good girl. Again, low-key offensive but so hot. His fist is tighter in my hair, pulling me over his length faster. I suck hard and use my hand to milk him, doing my best to give him pleasure.
His hips roll, and his cock slaps against my tongue. I wrap my lips around him and draw him into my mouth, my cheeks so hollowed his strokes slide with a wet sound from my lips to his balls. He’s breathing faster, and I feel his biceps tense. I know he’s close. I want to make him come.
I want the saltiness in my mouth.
His cock hardens and twitches. He groans and thrusts deeper, and I take him as greedily as I can.
I flex my hand around his length and massage the underside of his head with my tongue. His hand tightens in my hair, and I take him even deeper into my mouth, using my hand to stroke his length the way I know he likes.
He’s still so hard it’s almost impossible to fit him entirely in my mouth, and my jaw aches as I try to suck him.
I’m swallowing him; sucking him down as fast as I can. Fighting the gag reflex, my eyes water as I feel his cock swelling to an impossible size. He’s getting ready to come, and when he does, I want it to be in my mouth. I want to taste him. I want to feel him shooting his cum on my tongue. I want to swallow him.
I start to run my tongue up and down his shaft and he tenses.
“Oh,” he gasps. “Shit.” He pulls me off, panting as he stares down at me with glassy eyes. “I wanted that to go on forever, but I wasn’t gonna last.” He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out a condom. “Climb on, Flowers. I’ll give you a ride.” His voice is a deep, sexy rumble. His dirty talk is on point today.
I ditch the panties still tangled around my thighs and straddle his waist while he rolls on the rubber.
“Oh God.” A shudder of pleasure runs through him when I lower onto his dick. “Hannah. You’re a fucking goddess. The flower goddess. Is there one?”
I’ve never heard this many unnecessary words come out of him. Something freed his tongue, and I absolutely love it. He palms my ass and controls my movements, even though he’s on bottom. I take him deep when he thrusts up to meet me at the same time he yanks me in.
He kneads my ass. “I fucking love this ass, Hannah. It’s so hot.” He’s losing his breath, sounding winded. I love watching his control slip. “Fucking flower goddess. Or wood nymph. You’re like that fairy on your shoulder... but so much more. You’re carnal.” His fingers dig into my flesh. I’m seconds away from orgasming.
So is he, judging from the intensity of his thrusts, his gritted teeth and the wild look in his eyes. He bounces me over him, my legs dangling around his hips, my hair falling over the right side of my face.
“You’re beautiful, so beautiful.” He peers through heavy lids. “Are you close?” He adjusts his hands to bring his thumb to my clit.
“Yes! I’m ready!” I gasp. I’m past ready because the moment he rubs my clit, I go off, my muscles spasming around his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he roars, forgetting my clit to grab my hips and yank me up and down over his cock.
He comes, lifting us both into the air as he thrusts so deep in me he leaves the chair. He puts the edge of my butt on the desk and pounds into me as he comes and comes.
I fall back on my elbows, panting, watching the guy who was made of stone this morning come unglued.
In the best possible way.
“Cristo,” he mutters when he opens his eyes and takes me in. He loops his arm behind my back and pulls me up against his chest. “Are you good?”
“Yes.” I bite his chest and squeeze his cock with my core. I let out a breathy laugh. And then I’m suddenly crying.
Not sad tears—just a release. But I hate when I do this.
