When I bite my lip, Luke chuckles. "That's it, yes?" he asks softly. "You want me to bend you over, fuck you so hard that --"
He stops abruptly, as I sink to my knees on the kitchen floor in front of him. His cock is close to my lips, almost touching, a gossamer thread of precum hanging from the tip. Gripping the base of his cock, I open my mouth, and catch it on my tongue.
And I suddenly find my voice. “Yes,” I say. “But first, this is what I want.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Luke
This woman is on her knees in front of me, her mouth open, the tip of my cock an inch away from her as she looks up at me, her eyes hooded, heavy with desire.
If she only knew how absolutely fucking excruciatingly painful it was to not come, just looking at her like this...
Then she wraps her lips around the tip, and it's heaven. It’s pure, warm, velvety heaven as she takes me into her mouth.
And she moans.
She fucking moans, like this is what she's wanted forever.
What she does with her mouth is like magic. I push her hair back from her face, threading my fingers through it as she moves up and down on my length, practically swallowing me, moaning with each pass down my cock.
I've had a lot of head in my life. A lot of shitty head, from college girls who didn't know jack about giving head.
This is on a whole different level.
I don't want her to stop. She sucks me for I don’t know how long – forever, it feels like. And I want her to keep going, to keep working me with her mouth. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my damned life. I want to let go, to give in, release everything that I’ve had pent up since I saw her.
When I look down at her, big green eyes looking back up at me, pupils dilated large because she's so turned on, it nearly pushes me over the edge. I almost come in her right then and there, and I have to yank her head back, pulling away from my cock by her hair with more force than I intend.
Autumn makes a sound under her breath.
"Shit, I'm sorry," I say, loosening my grip. But I don't let go. I can't let go. She’s kneeling at my feet, while I grip her hair in one hand, the other wrapped around my cock. But I tell myself that I can’t come yet, not like this. It’s crass, classless, the kind of thing that Luke Saint, part of the trashiest damn family in West Bend, does. It’s not something a woman like this does.
"Do it," she says, like she can read my thoughts. Her eyes remain trained on mine, and she arches up, her breasts in the air. "Come on me. Now."
I’m not going to. I’m going to pull her to her feet, roll a condom onto my length, and fuck her the way she should be fucked. But she reaches out, strokes her fingers lightly along my balls, mouthing the words again: Come on me.
Fuck, I can’t help it. The fact that someone like her is begging me to do something so dirty right here in her kitchen is too much.
I do it. I let go, all over her tits.
After, she looks up at me, grinning, her expression triumphant.
“Shit, Autumn, I’m so sorry.” I scramble to the sink and wet a towel with warm water, all the while feeling guilty as sin.
When I turn around, she’s standing, and as I wipe the towel over her breasts, she looks up at me, her mouth parted slightly. “Sorry for what?" she whispers.
I trace the towel slowly over her skin. "Sorry for...that."
"Are you?" she asks, her voice breathy. The way she speaks makes my cock jump again. "Because I'm not sorry."
"Hell, Autumn." I don't know what to think about this woman. She's smart and funny and full of sass...and thirty seconds ago, she was kneeling in her kitchen while I came on her tits. "I just came all over you. That's not how I pictured things happening with you."
"Oh?" she asks, wrapping her hand around my cock. "Wow, you're still hard."
"Yeah," I say. "It's because of you."
“I’m sure,” she says, laughing. “Thanks for saying that.”
She thinks it’s because I’m young, that I’m just rock hard all the time for any chick. I can see it in her eyes. How do I tell her that’s not the fucking story, that she’s absolutely the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on?
“Don’t believe me?” I ask, running my palm over her breast. Her nipple is hard as a rock against me. I lean down to cover it with my mouth, swirling my tongue round and round until she’s moaning, little sounds that are primal, that make me want to bury my cock in her * right now. When I finally take my mouth away to look at her, I press my hard-on against her leg. "This is all because of you."
“I’m so wet,” she says, and when I reach between her legs I discover that’s a fucking understatement. She’s soaked, her * lips swollen to my touch.
"Your * is so ready for me," I say.
"Yes," she says. Then again: "Yes."
I’ve held out long enough. I grab a condom, unrolling it onto my length before coming back to her, pushing her against the kitchen counter where she’s standing, and bringing my mouth down on hers. “Why don’t I take you upstairs?” I ask.