Wild Sexy Thing (Wild Sexy 1)

I hadn’t noticed before how large the apartment was. The hallway had a high curved ceiling and a thickly carpeted floor. A few doors led to other rooms I itched to explore, but I made my way to the end of the hallway where one archway led toward the kitchen and one into the quiet living room.

The living room was well decorated in muted grey and white tones, and it had windows that faced the park. For the first time, I wondered just how successful Jason was. I skirted the room and the attached dining area, circling back in the direction of the hallway and the kitchen, then I saw the open doorway that led into a den.

There was a large TV spanning almost the full width and height of one wall, and facing it on a wide leather couch, Jason was holding a gaming controller, engrossed as the colors from the screen splashed reflections all over his body.

He stopped when I entered the room, pulling off his noise-canceling earphones as I went to sit beside him. He slid his hand around my waist and dropped a kiss on my exposed shoulder where my t-shirt had slipped off.

“My little bird,” he said softly, trailing a kiss to my neck.

I smiled. “My wild sex god.”

His eyebrow quirked. “What?”

“You started it with the last-name nicknames.”

“Yours is definitely sweeter though, you have to admit. Daphne Bird.” He nuzzled my lower lip. “Little bird.”

I rolled my eyes though I was smiling. “What are you playing?”

He told me the name of the game. “I’m investing in the company. Hopefully, this is going to be big. Do you want to play?”

I shook my head; I was no gamer, but sometimes I liked to watch. “I can watch and cheer you on.”

“Okay.” He picked up the controller and un-paused the game then disconnected the earphones and let the soundtrack fill the room as he played.

It was an engrossing game, and I cheered him on and lamented the near misses. When he passed a difficult stage, we both whooped and high-fived. It was fun. After a while, he paused the game and put the console aside, and we switched to binge-watching a comedy series. By the time we both fell asleep on the couch, it was already light outside.

I woke up a few hours later, lying on his lap. One hand had stopped mid-stroke in my hair. I got up, careful not to wake him. I curled my legs beneath me on the couch, facing him, watching his face as he slept.

He was handsome. Sometimes when I looked at him, I was swept off my feet all over again by how good he looked. Now, without the charming smiles, without the haze of sex and physical attraction, he looked innocent, sweet and boyish even, and something in his face tugged at my heart.

I could love this guy.

Immediately, I pushed the thought away. I didn’t even know him well enough to be thinking like that. I had to be careful to make sure I didn’t allow sex, however good it was, to cloud my senses.

He stirred, and with one hand, he searched, stopping when he touched my knee, squeezing it but not opening his eyes. I smiled, strangely overwhelmed by how sweet it was that he was reaching for me even while he was asleep.

I slid off the couch. He made a sound of protest and opened his eyes. “Don’t go,” he said sleepily.

“I’m not going,” I whispered, kneeling in front of him. The sleepy haze slowly left his eyes as I slid my fingers over the tops of his thighs. His muscles tensed under my fingers and I looked up at him, meeting and holding his gaze as I reached for the bulge of his cock and stroked him through his sweatpants.

His throat worked as he swallowed. I tugged at his waistband and he lifted his hips to help me as I pulled it down to free his hardening cock.

I’d touched him, stroked him, but only in the heated rush before we had sex. Now, I wanted to savor him the way he’d done me countless times already. I wrapped my fingers around him and moved my fingers up and down his hard length. He was beautiful, like hard steel encased in warm velvet. I stroked him until he closed his eyes and his head fell back, and then I took him between my lips.

He was perfection. I licked every inch of him then sucked him deep into my mouth. He moaned softly, and my senses reveled in having him under my power. I released him slowly, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, his hips flexed, and he let out a heavy, helpless sound.

I kept going, sucking, tasting, feeling him harden even more. His chest rose and fell, his hips tensed. I wanted him like this, conscious of nothing but the pleasure I could give him.

I cupped his balls in my palm, massaging them lightly. His hands threaded in my hair then he was trying to pull me up, but I didn’t budge. This was my turn. I sucked him deep to the back of my throat then licked his shaft and the tip of his cock before sucking him deep again. His hand fisted in my hair and he started to guide my movements, pumping his hips into my mouth as he moved my head.

“Open your mouth.” His voice was hoarse.

I opened wider, and I felt his cock touch the back of my throat.

“Fuck, I love your mouth.” The words were a dirty whisper.

“Mmm,” I moaned, tightening my lips around him.