Page 68 of Tattoo My Heart
“Fuck.”
He gasps for air when I slide him into my mouth a little deeper. His hands are now squeezing my head, the pressure a reminder of the control he has over his own body. I decide that I want him to lose it all. I want him to not be able to think when I’m around.
I never let him out of my mouth when I blindly reach for his jeans and underwear and pull them all the way to his ankles. If he tries to pull out of my mouth and take off running, he’ll trip and fall. I have a strategy here.
“Fuck it all,” he groans above me. “What are you doing to me, woman?”
My mouth lowers a bit more, eyes still closed, my focus solely on how I am making him feel. The wetness in my panties is a pleasant surprise.
I don’t think when I lift myself up on my knees just enough to pull them down.
“Shit, Evie.”
I continue bringing more and more of him into my mouth until I can’t go anymore. I crack my eyes open just enough to see how far I was able to go. I am shocked when I realize I am almost at the base of him, with my forehead close to the defined muscles of his stomach.
When the gag reflex kicks in, I hurry up and close my eyes again. I attempt to swallow around him, which only serves for his cock to go a bit more into my mouth. I can feel him in the opening of my throat.
What did the video say to do? My thoughts are erratic at this point. I don’t want to give up when I’ve come this far, but I am panicking a little.
“That’s enough, Evie.” Cal tries to pull my head back. “I just want to bury myself into your pussy now. I’ll make you feel so good.”
I refuse to let go though. My lips wrap tighter around his girth, and I force myself to go up and down a few times. Drool escapes in the corner of mouth, but I don’t even realize it until I feel Cal’s thumb wiping it off gently.
With my heart beating hard enough where I think it might just jump out of my chest, I reach under my skirt and touch myself, almost coming on the spot when I realize how wet I am.
I become bolder with each glide of my fingertips against my tip and move of my lips over Cal’s erection.
“This is not real,” I hear him mumbling above me. “It’s not fuckin’ real…”
His hips are moving now, just enough to keep me motivated. I ignore everything around us and all thoughts of the real life outside of what’s happening in this moment. Instead, I move my fingers over my very sensitive clit, spreading my own wetness, staying in rhythm with the movement of Cal’s hips as he moves in and out of my mouth now.
“Fuck, easy with the teeth,” he begs when my jaw tenses up and I scrape them a little too hard against him.
I am now bouncing up and down on my own hand, Cal’s cock in my mouth, seeing stars against my closed eyes. I don’t remember having this feeling during the times when I made myself come before.
Suddenly, it is too compelling to ignore. My body tenses up and my finger freeze on my clit. I can’t move.
“Ah, fuck, I’m coming,” Cal yells right before he pulls himself out of my mouth while pushing at my head with force.
I don’t even care what’s happening to him right now, although, from the sounds he’s making, he likes it. I am suspended in some sort of parallel universe, somewhere where I don’t care about anything other than the intense pleasure I am feeling. It seems to go on forever, but it’s probably only seconds.
When I finally open my eyes, I have no idea what I’m seeing. My vision is blurry, and I can’t stand the touch of my hand over the most intimate part of my body. At the same time, I don’t want to pull my fingers away either.
Movement from in front of me makes me drop my head down. All I see is Cal, on his knees, head thrown back and his hand wrapped around his now softening erection. There’s a mess down his legs and on the front of my skirt.
I just stare at the picture he makes, enthralled by the beautiful colors of his tattoo that peeks from the neckline of his t-shirt. When he brings his head back down, our eyes lock, the pull between us undeniable.
The need to cry right now is so intense, my chest hurts from the pressure I feel when I try to stop it. I need to remember that he is only using me for his own basic needs. He doesn’t want me for anything else.
That last thought is so deeply rooted in my head, that I am not sure I understand his next words.
“I love you, Evelyn Moore.”
TWENTY-TWO
Evie looksstunned by my confession. In all honesty, I am too. But, while it came out in the heat of the moment, I did mean it, and I refuse to take it back.
I’m not sure what to expect from her. I completely understand her needing to process what just happened. I’m sure that, at some level, she knows how much I have come to care for her.
