Southern Gentleman (Charleston Heat 3)

Can’t help it. I jack my hips. She pulls back.

Immediately I sit up, terrified I’ve, like, suffocated her or something.

“Julia. Baby. You don’t—”

She puts the flat of her palm to my chest and pushes me back. Hard. My blood spikes. Cock throbs inside the warmth of her mouth.

I bite back a smile.

This is a game I like.

This is a question I know the answer to.

“See?” I say, gently pushing her hair out of the way. “See who has the power here?”

My cock in her mouth, she looks up. A wicked gleam in her eye.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, she gets it.

She bobs down. At the same moment I lift my hips and thrust up.

Julia gags. I feel her soft palate contracting around my head. I go still.

But then she burrows down again. More.

She wants more.

I don’t know up from down.

She takes me deep and then I thrust deeper. She’s caressing my thigh, my fingers are tangled in her hair and pulling. She moans, the wrist on her other hand working as she tugs at the base of my dick.

Every time she bobs down, I can see the long, lean lines of her back. She’s strong. Beautiful. Completely naked and completely at my mercy.

Same as I’m at hers.

“I’m five fucking seconds from coming,” I grunt. “If you don’t stop now, I’m doing it in your mouth.”

That’s never happened before. I always finished in a napkin or condom. Too eager—too stupid—too rushed—to do it any other way.

Now that we’re actually taking our time, and doing this right, I want to change that.

Julia’s eyes flash with heat when they meet mine one last time. And then she sucks. Curls her tongue around my head when she pulls back, then goes deep.

“You want that, don’t you?” I say, fisting her hair in my hand.

She sucks harder.

“Swallow,” I pant. “All of it.”

And then I come.

I come so hard I roar, a sound I’ve never made before.

Julia keeps sucking, swallowing my hot pulses of cum. My whole being pulses in time to my release.

When I’m done, she carefully pulls back. Eyes on mine the whole time.

Reaching down, I run my thumb over her swollen lips.

No trace of cum. She did exactly as I told her. And from the look of it, she enjoyed it, too.

She smiles. This lewd, dirty, amazing little smile.

I take her by the arm and pull her up to me. Kiss her mouth, her neck, her tits.

Kissing her is just as fucking sweet as I thought it’d be. No surprise she’s passionate. Soft. Willing to try new things.

“I wish we could do this all day,” I say, drawing her up into a deep, warm kiss. The kind that has her rising to meet my strokes, that sweet tongue of hers tangling playfully with mine.

I can taste myself in her mouth. But I also taste her. That knowledge—how she tastes, how she moves, what she likes in a kiss—feels more intimate than our backseat screwing ever did.

We kiss until I’m dizzy. Then I curl her body into mine. The little spoon to my big one.

“Why can’t we? Do this all day, I mean?” she murmurs.

“I’m booked solid from ten onward. Meetings, two site visits, and then dinner and drinks with a potential investor.”

Julia lets out a breath through her nose.

“Wow. You really do work a fuck ton.”

“Well, yeah. When you own your own company, there’s no such thing as work-life balance. A lot of people are trusting me with a lot of their hard earned money. I can’t fall down on them. Same as I can’t fall down on my family.” I slide my hand to her belly. “I’ve got mouths to feed.”

“I bring home the bacon, too,” she replies. “I don’t need you to feed me or Charlie Brown. Although we definitely don’t mind it when you cook.”

“You have, what, five jobs? Three careers? Work is your life, too.”

She laughs. “Greyson—”

“Grey. I like it when you call me Grey.”

“All right, Grey. I have one job, and a side gig I do every so often because I’m obsessed with design and it helps me feel connected to my dad. I love my work, but it’s not my life. My friends are my life. My books. I travel. Walk. I love antiquing. Music. Dancing I really love. Experiences are important to me. I need to do stuff and see stuff to stay inspired—which means getting away from my laptop on a regular basis.”

I keep my lips in her hair. Inhale the scent of her shampoo.

“It shows. You’re pretty damn inspiring yourself.”

“Speaking of getting away from my laptop—I’ve started looking into maternity leave. When I’d take it. How much I’d take. I’ve met with my department head and the HR team at C of C to figure out how to make it all work. Have you given any thought to the time you’ll take off when the baby comes?”