Page 59 of Stuck-Up Big Shot
“I need your mouth on my cock again, Sutton. I want to give these beautiful full lips all the attention they deserve and watch them wrap around my cock and see it disappear in your mouth.”
Mmm, yes, I want that too.
I drop my hand between us to the front of his jeans, grasping his erection that bulges underneath. Stroking up and down with enough pressure to ensure it’s felt all the way down to his toes, I get a flutter of satisfaction as he grunts with pleasure.
“On your knees, Button.”
The command elicits an unsuppressed shiver that runs up my spine. Before I drop to the floor, Miles cups my face and kisses me with endearing tenderness. So contradictory from his rough, sexy commands. My breasts rise and fall with heaviness, nipples distending with the need to be plucked and teased.
Falling to my knees, I reach for his belt, unbuckling and then unzipping as I take his cock out, the sight of it making my mouth water with anticipation. Miles shimmies out of his jeans, pushing them down to the floor and out of the way. He then reaches down and lifts my shirt over my head and unclasps my bra.
“I want to feel these jiggle in my touch every time you swallow me down,” he says while cupping my breasts before moving one hand to guide my head toward his swollen cock.
My thighs clench at his dirty words and devious deeds, and there is no one else I’d want to tell me these naughty fantasies.
My fingers lace around the base of his shaft, hard and satiny soft all at once, and lick the top of the crown. I swirl my tongue around the rim, flicking the sensitive slit and then wrap my lips around him firmly. With each action, each deliberate move, I extract a groan from Miles’s throat and chest, and there is no better sound in the world to my ears.
His thrusts soon become rough, breaths ragged, as I continue to suck and lick and swallow him down, moaning around his throbbing girth. It doesn’t take long before his hips jerk unevenly, his panting loud, and his fingers steel their grip in my hair, controlling the pace of my moves.
“I’m close, Button. So fucking close. I want to see you swallow me down, baby. Every fucking drop.”
The words are music to my ears, flooding my panties with arousal so hot, I can’t stop myself from touching myself.
When I slip my hand down my shorts, my fingers easily glide over my wet sex. I moan, the vibration striking a chord and turning Miles into a beast.
Miles palms my breast roughly, plumping and squeezing, my nipple pebbling stiffly and shooting zings of pleasure to my clit. My climax hits me hard, abruptly, and violently as I cry out. At the same time, Miles’s grip tightens in my hair, and his body stills. His cock begins pulsing as a stream of hot liquid hits the back of my throat, coating my tongue, sliding down my throat as I swallow all of him just like he asked.
I blink up at him from below, my mouth still full of him to find his gaze has gone soft with post-orgasm afterglow. He slowly disengages, pulling his semi-hard dick from my mouth, and uses a thumb to wipe away the remnants of him from across my lip.
I take his offered hand and stand to my feet as he angles his head into my neck and nibbles my skin. He continues biting his way up to my earlobe, where he tugs it between his teeth.
“Did I see you finger fucking yourself to orgasm?” he asks, just as easily as he could have asked me if the sky is blue.
I nod sheepishly. “Yes.”
“Give me that hand.”
Chewing on my lip, I deliberate for a second and then lift the hand I used to finger myself. My fingers are coated with my essence, and the menacing stare from Miles makes me think I’ve done something wrong. He snags my wrist without warning, the action so sharp I snap my head back.
And then I watch with parted lips as he sucks my fingers into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking over my fingertips, and then pulls them back out.
The corners of my lips curve up into a sideways grin, and I cheekily ask, “Miles? What are your thoughts on fucking me in your childhood bed?”
A boom of laughter erupts from his chest. “I’d have to say I have plenty of thoughts on that. Let me demonstrate.”
33
Miles
The morning sunstreams in through the old, plaid curtains of my childhood bedroom, casting enough light to color the room in warm, orangish-yellow hues. And to paint a sleeping Sutton in an angelic glow.
But I know the truth now about Sutton. She is far from an angel after all the dirty fucking we did last night.
Her hair cascades over the pillow like an autumn leaf falling to the ground. She sleeps curled in a tight cocoon, her hands drawn up under her chin in a prayer position.
And dear God, did I hear her screaming the lord’s name over and over again last night in feverish prayer as we came together several times in unlawful carnal knowledge.
Which has me horny-as-fuck right now just thinking about it.
