Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend 4)

For so long I’ve been thinking about his mouth. His lips. Ever since kissing him in that hospital room, I haven’t thought of much else other than getting to the Super Bowl, but even then, my motivations revolved around Miller. The sooner we won, the sooner I could present Miller with his first championship title.

Our mouths come together, and it’s everything I remember and more. His tongue is lazy at first, teasing me, testing my limits, but it all changes when I take control and dominate the kiss.

I wonder if this is what it’s going to be like with Miller. At least in the beginning. He gives the minimum so I have to work for it. Funny thing is, if a woman were to play those kinds of games with me, I’d get over it superfast. But Miller’s doing it for one reason only, and I know that without him having to say anything.

He’s taking us slow for me. Because, somehow, he always knows what I need.

Right this second, I need to go at my pace and pull back if it’s too much, but it’s easy to get lost in him.

Miller’s hips buck underneath me, his impressive erection digging into me. His hand weaves into my short hair and grips tight.

It’s as if I can feel him channeling all his control into that hand, trying desperately to let me take the lead even though he’s dying to do it. I can’t wait until we’re in a place for me to let him take over, but we both know we’re not ready for that.

This time is for me to get used to his hard edges and larger body, explore the new sensations, and find out what Miller likes.

I already have a fair idea from what I’ve observed over the years, so I go for the easy targets first. Like his nipples.

Sliding my way down his body, I capture one with my teeth, biting down a little harder than I normally would with anyone else.

Miller lets out an encouraging moan, so I pinch the other one while I suck and lick the bite pain away.

It’s like I’m a kid in a candy store, and I don’t know where to sample next. So many things I’d like to do to Miller but probably won’t. Not this time around, anyway.

Unable to stay there and take my time, I shuffle down farther, my mouth moving to his stomach. The muscles contract under my tongue, and his cock twitches against my chest.

The wet patch on his underwear somehow turns me on even more. Probably because it lets me know how much he’s enjoying what I’m doing to him. My own cock is in a similar state. Harder than I’ve ever been before and achingly desperate to be touched.

My mouth pauses a little too long at the waistband of Miller’s boxer briefs.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” Miller’s hips betray his words as they thrust upward in a silent plea to get my head closer to his dick. I know that’s what he’s doing because I’ve perfected that move myself over the years.

So this is what it’s like to be on the other side of a needy cock. I would mentally apologize to every woman I’ve ever done it to if it weren’t so fucking sexy.

“I’m ready,” I murmur against his stomach. “But I need you to help me.” I glance up at him only to find his eyes already locked on mine. “Show me what to do.”

“Losing my underwear would be a good start.”

I can’t help smiling as I rise, resting on my knees. My fingers hook into the sides, but I hesitate again.

“Dunno why you’re pausing. You’ve seen my dick a million times.”

“Shit, you’re right. I’m just …”

“Nervous? You have nothing to be nervous about. Trust me, I’ll like anything you do to me.”

“Anything?”

Miller sighs. “God, I just set you a challenge, didn’t I?” He knows how I love a good dare.

“Tell me if you don’t like something I’m doing, because now I wanna try everything.”

Miller lifts his hips as I pull his underwear off and throw them somewhere behind me. His cock, long, veiny, and thick, bobs against his stomach.

We both groan as my hand wraps around his hard length. I test out a few strokes, getting used to the difference in his thickness compared to mine.

Miller lets out a shuddery breath. “Grip a bit tighter.”

I do as he says.

“So good.”

I appreciate the encouragement, which gives me the courage to lean in and take the tip into my mouth.

A salty taste fills my mouth, and while it’s not exactly pleasant, it doesn’t make me gag. Like, no one’s gonna bottle and sell a drink that tastes like cock, but as I glance up at Miller and see his hooded eyes, his tight jaw, and the obvious restraint he’s forcing himself to hold onto, I understand how people could love the heady flavor. Because it’s the taste of pure lust, and I want more of it.