Wet and Reckless (Private Pleasures 4)

His warm, wet fingers covered hers, guided her hand down to his balls, and coached her into a massage not quite as leisurely as the one she would have given if following her own instincts. His groan of appreciation was unmistakable. He left her to continue solo and wrapped his hand around his shaft. “Open your mouth for me.”

She obeyed, immediately tipping her face toward the ceiling to try and swallow the reservoir of saliva collected there.

“Wider, Roxy.” Something smooth and broad tapped her lower lip, triggering an instinct to do as he instructed. A salty stream of her own saliva overran the bank of her lip and trickled down her chin. Her tongue chased the spill—more instincts at work—but only succeeded in spreading the moisture all around her lips.

A tiny splat landed on her chest, followed by another. God, Roxy, you’re drooling all over yourself. More instincts kicked in. She uncurled her hand from the crumpled waist of his jeans with the half-formed idea of wiping her chin and chest, but he intercepted and threaded their fingers together.

“You wanted me to make a mess of you. I’m just getting started. Would you feel less self-conscious if I told you what a beautiful sight you are right now, kneeling there with your mouth open, your lips glistening?”

She couldn’t answer because he rolled the head of his cock along the circle of her parted lips as he spoke, giving her tongue something new to chase. But her cheeks heated.

“How about if I tell you each time you stroke my balls, I feel like I could come for days? Or there’s a slow burn at the base of my spine from the effort of holding back when every cell in my body is screaming for me to thrust? And this swollen, livid beast you’ve turned my dick into can’t wait much longer to invade your mouth.” The maddening play of that wide, blunt head along her lips never faltered, but his fingers tightened around hers. “Are you ready for that?”

Her body trembled like a tightly wound E string. Sweat gathered on her upper lip, in the valley between her breasts, and the creases behind her knees, but even so, shivers scampered under her skin. All she could do was moan something she hoped sounded affirmative.

He stopped toying with her lips and held the smooth crown just millimeters away. “Kiss it.”

She leaned in. His head fell back, and his Adams apple bobbed as she placed a soft, chaste kiss to the very tip with her pursed lips.

He bumped them with the soft dome. “Again.”

She quickly complied and took another bump for her efforts. Her tongue soothed the erotic abuse and picked up his taste. He groaned and lowered his chin. Hooded gray eyes found hers. “I can’t describe how good that feels.”

He didn’t need to. A flush of pleasure tinted his cheekbones. His chest expanded and contracted with unsteady breaths. She’d done that to him, and the knowledge sent a surge of power through her. Riding it, she inhaled deep and boldly laved his head with the widest part of her tongue.

His scent filled her senses, and saliva pooled in her mouth with a vengeance thanks to taste buds activated by traces of sweet, salt, and testosterone. She licked her lips again and almost smiled at his rough curse.

“Dammit, Reckless…” He released her hand and sank his fingers into her hair, further dislodging her ponytail. Her body followed the guidance of his hand, which angled her head back and pushed her lower at the same time, forcing her knees wider as he positioned her to receive him. She hooked her fingers into his belt loops for balance and parted her lips.

He thrust. Not a measured feeding of cock into mouth, but the deep, hedonistic plunge of a man driven beyond the bounds of civility. For a moment, all she could do was kneel there and absorb him. Her entire focus, possibly her entire purpose in life, derived down to one thing—accepting him as fully as possible, gorging on him with watery-eyed, breath-backed-up, heart-stalling effort. Before she quite got there, he withdrew an inch, pulling a sound that was part relief, part protest, from her throat in the process. Pleasure-glazed eyes looked down at her. “You have no idea what it does to me, seeing my cock cradled in your mouth.” With a single fingertip he traced her lips where they stretched around his shaft, lubricating them with an mix of her saliva and his pre-cum. Her throat prickled as if she’d spent her life in a desert. She wanted it—all of it—drowning her inside and out.

West brushed his thumb under her eye, erasing the vestiges of tears brought on by her struggle to take so much, so fast.

“Thirsty for more?”

Her reply might have been the most inelegant sound her vocal cords ever produced, but he wouldn’t be confused about the meaning. Not when she crawled closer, grabbed his ass with both hands, and proceeded to take him deep, shallow, and take more, reveling in the urgent thrusts he couldn’t restrain. When he swore and withdrew, she pressed her face to his cock, nuzzled him, licked him from base to tip while his fingers tangled in her hair and kept her close.

“Slow. Slower. As slow as you can—”

She rose up high on her knees and took him in again, digging her nails into his sweat-slick skin to keep him in place when he tried to withdraw.

“Hold on. Fuck, Roxy, do you need a distraction?”

Somehow, he moved without toppling either of them and nudged his leg between hers. Sweet heaven, a hard, male limb had never felt more crucial against the insides of her thighs. Frantic to ease the pressure building inside, but unwilling to relinquish his cock, she centered herself as best she could and rubbed against him—up and down, side to side, faster and faster.

His hand moved to the back of her head, grabbing and releasing handfuls of her hair as he encouraged, “That’s it. That’s my girl. Dance for me.”

It was far less graceful than dancing, but either way, she gradually found a rhythm, rocking up every time he thrust into her mouth, sinking back when he withdrew. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Her insides began to quiver, but she couldn’t break stride. Couldn’t interrupt the tempo of his cock plunging between her lips. They were numb and clumsy now—a slippery threshold she barely controlled.

Thankfully, he took charge. A low groan served as warning, and then he went deep, deep, and deeper yet as long spurts flooded her throat. He fucked his way through the release, giving her little chance to swallow. Liquid leaked from the corners of her mouth and gushed down her chin in two icy-hot rivers that burned paths to her nipples. The droplets hung there, gathering weight and volume until the next thrust sent them raining to the floor. Her body felt equally saturated, too heavy to move, as if he was pumping his orgasm down her throat and out her pores.

Then he bent low and slapped her ass. “Go.”

That snapped her out of her lethargy. She reared up, squeezed his leg between her thighs, and came with a choked cry and an almost painful shudder. He let her ride it out, not easing her onto all fours until the last tremble rattled through her.

Eyes closed, still gasping for breath, she sensed more than heard him crouch down to her level. Something soft swiped her chin. Startled, she jerked away, but he bracketed the back of her head with one hand and held her in place. The swipe came again, slightly damp this time, and she realized he was cleaning her face with the comforter. He moved on to her lips, wiping gently back and forth, as if he knew how swollen and sensitive they were in the aftermath of all that friction. When he finished, she ran her tongue over the upper one then the lower. They felt puffy and tender in the best possible way.

“What do you taste, Roxy?” His breath fluttered the hairs by her ear.