Page 12 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
Oh my god.
I tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to. He was… proportional to his height, and then some. And tattooed all the way down, the patterns swirling around his erection in a way that was hypnotically erotic.
“Like what you see?” he asked, the smug bastard.
“It’s… impressive,” I admitted, my mouth suddenly very dry.
“And all yours, if you want it.” He leaned back, completely comfortable in his nudity. “What would you like me to do, Julian? I can show you pleasures you’ve never imagined, but you have to tell me what you want.”
I swallowed hard, desire warring with nervousness. “I want… I want you to show me what I’ve been missing.”
Deus’s smile was predatory and pleased. “Specificity, Julian. Tell me exactly what you want.”
“I want your mouth on me,” I said, face burning but determined. “I want you to show me how it’s supposed to be done.”
“Better,” he approved. “Lie back.”
I obeyed, sinking back against the couch cushions. Deus moved with that supernatural grace, positioning himself between my legs. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my boxers, looking up for permission. I nodded, lifting my hips again as he slid them down and off.
Now I was completely naked, exposed to his amber gaze. I resisted the urge to cover myself, forcing my hands to stay at my sides.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, running his hands up my thighs. “So responsive to every touch.”
He started with light kisses along my inner thighs, each one sending shivers through my body. His hands continued their exploration, finding spots that made me gasp and twitch.
“Most humans rush this part,” he said between kisses. “They go straight for the main event, missing all these lovely sensitive areas.” To demonstrate, he gently bit the crease where my thigh met my hip, making me yelp in surprise and pleasure.
“Deus,” I pleaded, beyond caring how desperate I sounded.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he conceded, finally, finally wrapping a hand around my erection.
The first touch had me arching off the couch. His hand was hot, almost too hot, but in the best possible way. He stroked me slowly, learning what I liked from my reactions.
“Good?” he asked, though he clearly knew the answer.
“Yes,” I gasped. “More.”
“Greedy,” he teased, but complied, lowering his head to replace his hand with his mouth.
Chapter 7
The first touch of his tongue nearly undid me. He was methodical but enthusiastic, alternating between long, slow licks and more focused attention to the most sensitive areas. All the while, his hands continued their exploration, touching and caressing everywhere they could reach.
It was overwhelming in the best possible way. I’d received oral sex before, but nothing like this—this focused, deliberate pleasure-giving from someone who clearly knew exactly what they were doing.
“Oh god,” I moaned as he took me deeper, the heat of his mouth almost unbearable.
He pulled off just long enough to say, “Not quite, but I appreciate the sentiment,” before returning to his task with renewed vigor.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, not to guide him—he clearly didn’t need direction—but just to have something to hold onto as pleasure built to almost painful levels. The tattoos on his shoulders and back moved faster under my gaze, swirling and pulsing in hypnotic patterns.
“Deus, I’m close,” I warned, trying to pull him away.
He ignored me, doubling down on his efforts, one hand moving to cup and gently squeeze my balls in a way that had me seeing stars. I couldn’t hold back anymore, coming with a shout that was probably audible to my neighbors.
Deus worked me through it, not stopping until I was shaking with oversensitivity. Only then did he pull away, looking up at me with those inhuman eyes and an extremely self-satisfied expression.
“That,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “is how it’s done.”
