Page 56 of The Sound of Forever
But teasing is exactly what I intend to do. I lower my head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, tasting the salty hint of pre-cum. His groan vibrates through the room, and I feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to grab me, to take control.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I’m in charge.
Tonight, he’s mine.
I flick my tongue over the tip, savoring every second, watching his response. His head falls back against the pillows, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I take him deeper, inch by inch, my hand stroking the base in tandem with my mouth.
“Jesus, Jules,” he growls, his hips jerking slightly. “You’re going to kill me.”
I hum around him, the vibration drawing a choked moan from his throat. His fingers grip the sheets tighter, his control fraying with every flick of my tongue, every twist of my wrist. I pull back, my lips leaving him with an audible pop, and he groans in frustration.
“More,” he begs, his voice raw, desperate. “Don’t stop.”
I smirk, leaning back to admire him, his cock glistening, his body taut with need. “You’re so impatient,” I tease, wrapping my hand around him again and pumping slowly. “How would you say it? Oh, right—beg me, Keane. Beg me, properly.”
His eyes snap to mine, dark and blazing with hunger. “Jules, please,” he rasps, his voice shaking. “I need you. Your mouth. I’ll do whatever you want, just . . . please.”
The sound of him begging is intoxicating, and I give in, leaning forward to take him into my mouth again. This time, I don’t hold back. I take him deep, hollowing my cheeks as I bob my head, my tongue swirling around him. His groans grow louder, more desperate, filling the room as I work him relentlessly.
“Fuck, Jules,” he pants, his hands finally finding my hair, though he doesn’t try to guide me. He lets me set the pace, his body trembling beneath me as I push him closer and closer to the edge.
When his hips start to buck uncontrollably, I pull back again, smirking as he lets out a frustrated growl. His eyes are wild, his chest heaving, and I know he’s teetering on the brink.
“You like this?” I ask, my voice sultry as I stroke him with slow, deliberate movements.
“God, yes,” he groans, his head falling back. “You’re incredible. Perfect.”
I take him in again, this time with a purpose, sucking him harder, faster, until his control snaps completely.
“Jules, I’m going to come. Stop if you don’t want to swallow,” he warns me, desperate, needy.
I don’t listen to him—I continue. His body tenses, his moans breaking into a low, guttural cry as he comes, hot and thick, spilling down my throat. I swallow every drop, savoring the taste of him, the way his body shudders beneath me.
When I finally pull back, he’s staring at me with an expression of utter awe, his breathing ragged. “You’re going to ruin me, Jules,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.
I crawl up his body, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and grin. “Let’s ruin each other, Keane.”
His hands slide into my hair as he pulls me down, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that’s deep, desperate, and all-consuming. I moan into him, my body pressing flush against his, every inch of me craving more. His lips move against mine with a need that matches my own, his tongue sweeping inside, igniting every nerve ending as his hands roam my back, pulling me even closer.
It’s not just a kiss—it’s a promise, a surrender, a plea for more. And I know, without a doubt, he’ll give it to me, everything I want, just as I’ll let him claim me.
ChapterFifty-Three
Keane
This isthe first time in a long time that I’ve woken up without that gnawing dread clawing at my chest. Sunlight filters through the curtains, soft and golden, streaking across the room like a warm embrace. I blink against it, disoriented for a moment, the unfamiliar surroundings tugging me back to the day I woke up from the coma.
It’s okay, I remind myself, taking in the soothing lavender scent that lingers on the pillow next to mine. The bed is softer than I’m used to, the sheets tangled around me in a way that feels intimate, comforting.
Lavender.
Julie.
My Julie.
The realization creeps in, warm and inevitable, like the sun reaching every corner of the room. I’m in Julianna Valencia’s bed.
