Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I thought vaguely that I should have been doing something to please him at the same time. Reaching for his cock or maybe turning myself around to attempt sixty-nine. But there was no way I would have been able to pull it off. Not when Trace Bishop was sucking me off and running strong, warm hands over every inch of my skin.
My orgasm hit hard, like Wile E. Coyote suddenly falling off a cliff and leaving nothing behind but a white cloud of vapor.
I was in free fall.
“That’s it. So good.” Trace’s voice crooned softly as his hand pulled the last few drops of my release out of me. “So fucking pretty laid out for me like this.”
I turned and arched into him, tucking my face into his neck to indulge in him a minute longer while the aftershocks of my orgasm still ran through my body. “Oh god, fuck. Fuck.”
The deep rumble of his approval vibrated through his chest and did crazy fucking things to me. I wasn’t super into a daddy/boy dynamic, but I could see the appeal. Pleasing Trace, bringing him pleasure of any kind, made me feel powerful.
“So beautiful, Wolfe.” He moved a hand up to smooth his thumb lightly over my cheek. “Pink and flushed for me. Fucking gorgeous.”
My brain came back online, clear enough for me to want to give him the same pleasure he’d given me. Impress him with the fact that I knew what I was doing in bed.
I kissed down his chest, making sure to press one over that silver thread, before running my tongue through the hair below his navel. His dick was fully hard, pressing the cotton of his briefs up into my chest and neck.
Trace cupped the back of my head. “You sure? Don’t have to do this.”
I huffed out a laugh instead of answering. As if putting my mouth on him, feeling the weight of his heavy cock and balls on my tongue, would be a chore. As if I hadn’t dreamed of this.
I pulled his underwear down and off, revealing a thick cock ruddy and damp at the tip. His balls were heavy, and I immediately wrapped them in a loose grip, enjoying the harsh intake of breath that made Trace’s chest lift.
“Fuck, Wolfe. Okay.”
I wanted to laugh. He sounded like he was bracing himself, like he needed to talk himself into accepting this from me.
We’re doing this. This is happening.
I nosed up his warm shaft and stuck my tongue out to taste the sticky fluid at his tip. And maybe I made sure he could see it, that he knew exactly who was tonguing his slit. When I glanced up through the hair in my face, his pupils had overtaken most of the color in his eyes, and red apples blazed high on his cheeks.
I kept eye contact as I pulled his cock back to press it onto my extended tongue, to lick up and down the underside of his dick without closing around it.
The tease punched a sound out of his chest, and one of his hands gripped the duvet by his hip. “Gonna fucking kill me,” he breathed. “Okay. Fuck.”
I preened under his compliments, loving the fact that he found me sexy. His inability to resist me, both during the kiss at his cabin and now, was intoxicating.
When I finally wrapped my mouth around him and sucked him down, he arched back and let out a choked sound.
It was a good start. But part of me wanted to punish him for waiting this long. Show him he’d missed out on six fucking years of the best head he could have been getting all that time.
I licked and swirled and sucked until he was pressing into my open throat with a gasp. “Baby, baby, be care— Fuck, how can you— Fuck!”
It was only seconds later that he was warning me off. “Gonna come. Baby, stop. Can’t—oh god!”
The warm pulse of his release in my throat was welcome, but the volume threw me. I tried to hide the quick sputter as I swallowed, but he was too perceptive.
“Fuck, c’mere.” He yanked me into his arms on top of him, cupping the back of my head and holding me to his chest while we both heaved in deep breaths. The air was stuffy and warm, scented with sex and masculine sweat. It only made the entire experience even hotter. “So good, Wolfe. Fuck.”
I wanted to laugh. Trace had a great vocabulary from being a voracious reader. We even shared an interest in poetry, as I’d discovered when working on a literature project in my junior year of high school. Hearing him reduced to expletives now was incredibly satisfying.
“Y’okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my hair.
“Mmhm.” I nestled into him, ignoring the sticky, damp skin between us.