He reached out and took my hand in his. “It’s okay.”
“Did…” Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask! “Did you finish?”
He ran his thumb over my palm, hesitation clear. “Uh, no.”
My stomach coiled in distress.
He didn’t finish, and it was all my fault. I gave him stage fright. I was the reason he couldn’t take care of business.
I sat up and scooched over to him. Feeling around, I found his jaw and cupped his face between my hands, lowering my face to press slow, wet kisses onto his mouth.
He growled. “Mina, that’s not really helping, baby.”
Baby.
My heart sighed dreamily.
He called me baby.
I shushed him and kissed him deeper. “Let me help you.” Without waiting for his opinion on the matter, I turned to face his feet and straddled him, sitting on his stomach, my legs open and out on either side of his.
His voice hoarse, he croaked, “You don’t need to. It’s okay”
God, he wanted it so bad. I could hear it in his tone. He was just playing it cool. I understood need. I spoke huskily, “I’ve been dying to touch you, Lev, and now that I’ve seen it, I don’t think I can keep my hands off you.”
That was the truth.
Running my hands down his thighs, I brought them back up slowly in a light massage. I did this over and over again until I heard Lev sigh in pleasure. I slid my hands up to either side of his length and held them there. With delicate care, my fingertips grazed the elastic of his boxers before slipping leisurely inside. The moment I came into contact with his hot, hard tool, Lev let out a long groan, and I wrapped the fingers of both my hands around it. It didn’t surprise me that the fingers of both hands weren’t able to meet. My hands were small, and he was big.
I let go of him a second to slide my thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and, thankfully, he took the hint, lifting his hips, allowing me to push them down to his knees. I quickly took him in my hands once more, worked him slowly in an up-down motion, and asked, “Lotion?”
“Don’t have any,” he rasped.
I slid back so that my rump was in the center of his chest and bent at the waist, stroking him all the way. I wanted to put my mouth on him. I tested the waters by gently licking around the head of his shaft and was rewarded when Lev convulsed in a way that almost threw me off.
Panting, he gripped my hips and thrust up into my hands. “Yeah, baby. That’s good. So good.”
I had to agree. He tasted clean with a tinge of saltiness, and every time my tongue passed over his slit, I was pleased to hear the sounds of his pleasure.
Opening my mouth, I held him straight and gradually took the head of him into my mouth, sucking lightly, feeling bolder and braver with every second.
Lowering onto him, I managed to take half of his length into my mouth before deeming myself at risk of gagging. My lips around him, I started an up-down motion again and sucked him deep as I could. His low groans and panting drove me.
He tasted so good that I moaned with him. I wanted to tell him that I was enjoying this as much as he was. “You taste so good, baby.”
That seemed to drive him over the edge. His hips began to thrust fitfully, driving him farther into my mouth. A growl escaped his throat and he pulled my mouth away from him. I knew what was coming, pun intended.
My hands worked him in long, hard strokes until finally, his stomach clenched, his body went rigid under me, and he shouted his release. I felt it all. His cock throbbed furiously, sending warm spurts of cum shooting out onto my hands.