“Closer,” he says, his voice low and deep, and my clit throbs again, an answering pulse coming from deep inside me. My nipples are hard and aching, rubbing against the scratchy lace of my bra.
I take one last step, until my breasts are mashed to his chest and all I can see is the ink on his abs and his big shoulders.
“I said closer.” He grabs my wrists and jerks me against him, his hard-on pressing into my stomach, taking away my breath. “Gigi.”
I shouldn’t like my name on his lips so much. There’s so much I shouldn’t like about him.
He smirks. “You want me.”
“Screw you.”
“Look, I didn’t ask to be born sexy. Not my fault.”
“Yeah, nothing is ever your fault, is it?”
His eyes narrow, anger sparking at their cores. “And that means what, exactly?”
“You never gave any excuses. Ever. Not back when you barely spoke a word to me, not now that you treat me like…”
His nostrils flare. “Like what?”
Like I belong to him.
“Get down on your knees,” he says. “You know what to do.”
I could slap his arrogant face, walk out the door. I should. He can’t force me to do this, to follow through with this ridiculous deal.
But I want it.
I should hate him for it.
But I can’t. I followed him here. He didn’t kidnap me or anything. Deep inside… yeah, deep inside I’d been hoping he’d demand payment.
How twisted is that?
It’s to help Sydney, I tell myself as I reach for the buttons of his jeans. He protects her. He’s the only person I know who can.
Yeah. Like that’s the real reason you’re here? Keep telling yourself that, girl.
The jeans fall open, and I suck in a sharp breath when I realize he’s going commando. The treasure trail leads down to his thick cock that’s trapped sideways in the denim. I follow its shape with my fingertips, feel it harden more.
I lick my lips, my throat suddenly dry. I tug down on the rough fabric, needing to see the evidence of his arousal, touch it. Freeing his hard-on, I wrap my hand around its thickness as it swings free of its confines. So long, and heavy, pulsing with big veins, the head flushed. It twitches in my hand, growing even larger.
God, it’s so big, so sexy I lean forward, breathing him in. The scent of male musk is filling my senses, peppery and with a hint of his deodorant, pine trees and blood. I hear him breathing, fast and shallow.
“What are you waiting for?” His voice hitches when I reclaim my hold and squeeze, my hand barely big enough to grip the base of his cock. “Fuck…”
My breasts ache, my insides clench with need. Just holding him in my hand makes me feel so hot like I’m about to self-combust.
I lower my head, open my mouth and suck his cock inside, gripping his thigh with my other hand to steady myself.
He tastes good. Salty. Bitter. A hint of sweetness and spice.
A growl rips from his throat. His hand lands on my head, fingers twisting in my hair, and I feel how his body tenses, quivering with desire.
He’s so big my lips hurt as I take him in deeper, then pull back so I can breathe. Saliva pools, slips from the corner of my mouth, but I don’t care. Never thought I’d like blowing a guy so much.
I mean, my experience with blowjobs is limited. I’ve had sex, sure, but I’ve never been that interested in cocks, until no