And erotic shock jolted Keaton to the soles of his feet. While her hand stroked the shaft, her mouth sucked and licked the sensitive skin of his sac, and his hands fisted in the sheets. “Ah…God…Brooke…”
He tried to stay quiet, but he really didn’t have much control. Over anything.
She let him slip from her mouth, released his shaft, and Keaton experienced two seconds of relief from the intense pleasure.
Into the phone she said, “Okay.”
Then moved the receiver away from her mouth to circle his head with her tongue and suck the tip in and out between her lips until Keaton’s hands were tangled in her hair.
“Get off the phone,” he whispered. “I have more important uses for your mouth.”
She grinned, and into the phone she said, “Look, it’s really early. Can we talk about this at breakfast? Great. See you then.”
Brooke disconnected, tossed her phone on the nightstand, and took Keaton’s cock in both hands with a sigh. She stroked him with loving intensity, “Now this is where I really want to concentrate my focus this morning.”
She rocked to her knees, smiled into Keaton’s eyes with so much affection, his heart swelled. Then she lowered her head, plunging Keaton’s cock deep into her mouth.
Warm, wet heat. Pressure, friction, suction. They pushed pleasure through Keaton’s package. His whole body quaked. Moans rolled out of him on waves, and he let them come, knowing the sound turned Brooke on. His vision doubled and blurred. “Ho-oly fu-u-uck.”
She sucked. And sucked. And sucked. The amount of pressure Brooke could create with her mouth made his toes curl and his eyes cross. And she did it all while watching his reactions. All with affection and desire drenching her expression.
Keaton would drop to his knees and beg this woman to use her mouth on him. But she gave it willingly. Eagerly.
She closed her eyes and hummed, long and low, and the vibrations tore through Keaton’s cock. “Brooke…” He curled toward her and slid his hands up her arms. “Come here.”
She took her mouth off him long enough to say, “No more condoms, remember?”
“Ah, fuck.” And dropped back, forearm over his eyes. He’d never used all his condoms in one night.
Ever.
Brooke laughed and pressed her flat tongue along him from his balls to his tip. Keaton shuddered and slid his arm to his forehead to watch. Her hungry eyes stayed pinned to his as she loved his cock with open lust and erotic intensity.
The connection he found in her bright blue gaze tugged in the center of his chest, and it was more than physical. Pleasuring him was her gift. One she went to great lengths to give well.
Among other things he’d learned over the last six hours, Keaton had discovered how to let down a few walls during sex. One of those walls was expressing his pleasure. There had been too many times when women had used pleasure as a carrot or a bribe or even a weapon, so he’d learned to keep that physical thrill hidden behind a wall of lust.
But Brooke gained so much joy and excitement from Keaton’s pleasure that he did his best to show it. As a side benefit, the more excited he got, the more excited Brooke got. Which was why he hadn’t been to sleep, why they didn’t have any condoms left, why his cock hadn’t been fully soft since he’d set eyes on her in the café, and why he rose to climax too damn fast now when he wanted to savor these last moments with her.
But as the affection in her eyes and in her touch joined his own feelings and drove him too high too fast and too soon, he said, “Brooke…baby…I’m gonna—”
She slipped her mouth off his cock, surged up the bed, and covered his mouth just as his orgasm broke. His brain whited-out. She drank in his growl of release and kissed away his groans of pleasure while continuing to pump him.
Then kissed lazy trails along his neck and over his chest as he sank against the bed and caught his breath.
“Baby…” he panted, letting his eyes fall closed as he stroked his hand over her hair and down her back. “I’m…never gonna…be the same.”
He already wasn’t the same. And he didn’t fucking know what he was going to do about it. But he had about two hours before he had to head to the airport, which gave him very little time to convince Brooke to reconsider her “this can’t be any more than tonight” so they could figure out how to see each other again.
They showered together, something Keaton hadn’t done with a woman in eons. And the shower they’d shared was something Keaton had never done—a slow, drawn-out exploration of bodies with hands and mouths and finally soap, leaving them both starry-eyed and grinning.
While Brooke dressed, Keaton turned on the news and made coffee. He stood in the middle of the living area, looking out at the Colorado River, breathing in the scent of coffee. With the sounds of a woman getting ready in the other room, her voice touching his ears as she spoke with her boss, Keaton should be itching to get out of here. Should be feeling some sort of knot in the pit of his stomach over how he would end this cleanly.
But all Keaton felt deep inside was…
Stillness. Comfort.
Fuckin’ joy.