Page 63 of Take Me to Church
The right answer seems like it would be no, but it's not a completely honest answer. And at this point I'm pretty confident my perception of right and wrong are still very skewed, so I decide to go with the truth yet again. "I've watched videos."
Christian’s finger stops and his nostrils flare. "Videos of women sucking cock?"
I nod, eyes dipping down to where his straining length juts high and proud inches from my face. I lick my lips again, anticipation keeping me eager. I want to do this right. I want Christian to see he doesn't have to protect me from myself. That I know what I want and I'm not afraid to take it.
Even if sometimes it seems that way.
"Did you like watching those videos?" Christian’s hand starts to move again, his touch sliding up into my hair.
"Yes." I don't feel wanton or sinful admitting it. Not to him. "But not as much as I like the thought of doing it to you."
Christian’s hand fists into the hair at my nape, fingers twining as they pull tight. "Show me how much you like the thought of sucking my cock."
I don't hesitate. I'm afraid he’ll change his mind. Go back to worrying I don't completely understand the ramifications of what I'm doing.
I absolutely do.
I rock forward, lining my lips up with the flared head. I open my mouth and flick my tongue against the tip of it, raising my eyes to his face so I can watch his reaction. I've seen how this is done, but I'm not confident enough to blindly trust my abilities, so my only option is to hope I can figure out what he likes based on his reactions.
To my surprise, Christian’s focus is locked on where my tongue touches the heat of his silky-smooth skin, jaw locked tight as I tease against it. There's definitely intensity there, but not the blissful expression of pure pleasure I'm hoping to achieve, so I part my lips more, opening my jaw wider so I can take him into my mouth.
I expect it to feel like an invasion. Uncomfortable, especially as his rigid shaft glides over my tongue, sliding deeper. But I don't seem to be thinking about the stretch of my lips or the hint of a gag that happens when he bumps the back of my tongue.
All I can think about is the sound Christian makes. The deep growl of a groan that comes through his lips as he watches me swallow him down.
His hand tightens in my hair, like he can't stop hanging onto me as I find my footing, working my mouth over him with slow, deep passes.
My spit makes his skin slick, easing the way, making it possible for me to take more and more of him with every bob of my head. At some point, it becomes a challenge. Seeing how much of him I can push between my lips. How tight I can make his fingers pull my hair. How fast I can make him breathe. How hard I can make his cock jerk.
I know I believed I was doing this for him, but somehow it's starting to become for my benefit too. Because for the first time in my life I feel powerful.
This man, who is capable of unimaginable things, is at my mercy.
It's a heady feeling, one I already want more of.
I watch Christian’s face as I sink over him yet again, but this time I hollow my cheeks, sucking as I pull back.
The sound that comes from him is inhuman and feral and it shoots straight down to the ache throbbing in my pussy. I press my hand between my thighs, trying to ease the suffering, but I’m still not bold enough to take my pleasure into my own hands. The pressure of my palm makes me whimper with unmet need, and the sound resonates in my mouth.
The hand Christian has in my hair grips so tight it almost hurts as he pulls me away so fast a string of saliva continues to connect us. His thumb comes to slide along my lower lip, wiping away the wetness collected there. "Stand up."
His command pulls my nipples tight and has my thighs pressing together. I liked being in control, but maybe not quite as much as I like Christian being in control. He knows what he's doing. He knows how to satisfy both of us.
And ultimately I know he would stop all this if I asked him to.
So I stand, continuing to watch him as I move, drinking in every expression, every sound, every breath.
Christian tips his head toward the shorts and T-shirt I changed into after work. "Take it all off."
He's the only man I've ever been naked in front of, and surprisingly it didn't feel strange last night. Actually, it made me feel a whole lot like I do now. Powerful.
Because the way he looks at me makes me feel like I matter. Like he wants me as much as I want him.
So I strip down, shimmying out of my shorts and panties before dragging the T-shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor along with my bra.
I hold my breath, knowing he's going to touch me. Knowing he's going to make me feel so good.
Christian nods toward his desk. "Bend over."
