Page 41 of Fourth Wheel
“Who takes care of you?” I ask, my voice breathy as I lean in and test the waters. I run my lips against the sandpaper stubble of his neck, then trace a line from his throat to his ear with my tongue.
“Hmm?” I ask, nibbling on his earlobe and grinning in satisfaction when his hips shift beneath me. I run my hands through his hair, over and over again, caressing him until he sighs and lays his head back against the headrest, granting me more access.
“Maddie,” he scolds. His protest is halfhearted, at best. He’s still squeezing my ass. And he grunts when I swivel my hips, the fabric of the sweatpants he loaned me making it all too easy to feel the growing hardness of his arousal.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” I whisper in his ear before placing a trail of kisses down the side of his neck. “Immediately. Without hesitation,” I promise, pulling back to look him in the eye and show him my resolve.
“I just want to do this for you. Without expectation.”
He tenses when I brush both hands down his torso, stopping at the button of his pants.
“I know you,” I declare.
He shifts up slightly and scowls, but I keep going before he can object.
“I’m learning you,” I amend, softer.
I undo the button while maintaining eye contact with him, then pull on his zipper. Down, down, down. Painstakingly slow as I slither down his body and kneel before him.
He sits up straighter, then lifts his hips and pulls down his pants and boxers, baring himself to me. I resist the urge to look—not yet; you’ve almost got him—maintaining eye contact as I make my closing argument.
“I let you pull back and send me away in the alley because I could tell that was what you needed. But tonight? Tonight, you need something else. Something I really want to give you.”
His expression is filled with so much emotion I have to fight the urge to look away. He nods once—making his consent clear—and it takes all my willpower not to squeal in delight. I bow my head and bite the corner of my lip as I finally allow myself to take in the gloriousness of his dick.
It’s perfect. Like I knew it would be. Ramrod straight. Veiny like his arms. Stoic like his attitude. It might be the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in real life. But I’m not one to back down from a challenge.
I bend low and kiss the tip, swirling my tongue to collect the bead of precum glistening there for the taking.
When I look up, his mouth is hanging open and his pupils are blown out, his eyes completely fixated on my mouth.
“You’re allowed to take something for yourself, Dempsey. Especially because it’s something I really want to give you.”
I wrap my hand around his dick, and he thrusts into my palm almost involuntarily. I give him one last salacious smile, then throw my braid behind me and get to work.
I take my time exploring, licking up and down his length and figuring out what, exactly, draws him out of his rigid shell. Right under the rim seems to be a favorite. And he wraps his hand around my braid in the most delicious way when I turn my head and cover the base of him with my mouth.
He’s so fucking big. I can’t help but grunt my own pleasure as he rolls his hips and fills my mouth with his cock. I grip him at the base and develop a rhythm, jerking him as I continue to bob up and down and give him what I hope is the perfect amount of suction.
“Fuck… Maddie. That feels amazing. You’re doing so good for me. You’re doing so fucking good.”
What the hell is this? The man barely talks to me all night, and now he’s got all sorts of things to say? I’ve never had a guy do anything but grunt when I’ve given head before. Spurred on by his words and somehow turned on by all the encouragement, I double down.
But Dempsey’s not just any guy—he’s a man. And his words are doing more for me right now than most guys can do with their hands and their mouths and their dicks combined.
Fuckity fuck. I’m so into this guy.
I squeeze my thighs together in need, then mindlessly tweak my nipple through his T-shirt as I drive him wild.
“Take that off for me,” he instructs as he slows his thrusts into my mouth.
I pop off his dick in surprise, caught off guard that he noticed what I was doing.
He smirks, then runs a thumb along my swollen bottom lip. “Take it off,” he urges, gentler, nodding toward my shirt as I scurry to pull it over my head.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs as he hauls me up on my knees and stares at my chest.
My nipples were already pebbled from the arousal coursing through my body. Now they’re painfully stiff because of the night air and his sultry appraisal.
