Southern Sinner (North Carolina Highlands 3)

“Oh, honey, yes.” He gathers my hair in his hand and fists it. “Just like that. Go a little deeper. Uh-huh.”

Hank pulls my hair, guiding himself even deeper. I gag and my eyes water, but when he tries to pull back I catch him by the ass and hold him there.

“Honey, you’re gonna choke,” he says, but he still sinks inside my mouth, cursing when he hits my soft palate. I swallow and pump my hand.

I bob my head and he pulls my hair again, this time to set the rhythm. He moves his hips too, fucking my mouth slowly at first, then faster and faster.

The fist in my hair, the cock in my mouth, the pace—what he’s doing is crude.

At the same time, I feel his eyes on me. He’s trailing a thumb down my cheek, his touch reverent and gentle. He wipes saliva from the corner of my mouth.

I crack open an eye and see him watching me. Brow furrowed. Jaw hard but eyes soft and full.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Of course he looks at me that way. All guys do when you’re sucking their dick.

He pulls out. I lick his head. Run my tongue along the side of his length. He goes back in. His hips are rolling wildly now. I can tell he’s close. I pump faster with one hand and reach for his balls with the other, giving them a lingering caress.

“I wanna come on you,” Hank growls. “Let me.”

My clit screams and I nod, ducking my head at the same moment he pulls out of me.

“Get on the bed.” Hank gestures toward the bedroom before whipping a towel off the ring beside his sink. “On your back—lie on your back.”

I lie on my stomach. I don’t like how raw his words sounded.

Or maybe I like it too much, and I know if I look him in the eyes when he comes I’m not going to be able to stay in control.

“What the fuck, Stevie?” he spits out when he comes into the room. “I said on your back.”

I glance at him over my shoulder. Cross my ankles and bend my knees so my heels nearly touch my butt. “No.”

“Stevie.” He gives himself a rough stroke. “So help me God—”

“No.”

The challenge hangs between us. I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it up, revealing my bare back. “Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” he growls. “But you watch. Understood?”

I smirk. “Yes, sir.”

Watching Hank touch himself might be one of the most erotic experiences of my life. He’s a wall of solid muscle, his entire body tensed as he works himself over with hard, fast strokes, hips circling, lips parted. He moves closer to me. Closer. His thighs meet with the edge of the bed.

His gaze is glued to my back, my ass. I’m glad. It feels safe this way.

I feel safe, having that distance between us.

But I still have to tease him. Urge him on. Give him a piece of me.

“Imagine your dick’s still in my mouth. I’m savoring you, loving how hard you are. How your skin feels like silk on my tongue. Let go, Hank. Come how you want to—all over me.”

“Fuck,” he shouts. The sinews in his neck pop and he sucks in a breath, fist jerking back and forth. Then he grabs my shirt and hikes it up higher, resting his weight on one hand beside me as he holds his body half a foot above mine.

With the other he guides hot ropes of cum all over my skin. The breath catches in my throat like it’s my release too, and my pussy throbs, heavy, hard beats that have me squirming.

Hank comes and comes. Semen lands in my hair. He flexes his hips, slowly guiding himself in and out of his fist.

He’s finally empty, and our gazes lock.

Now it’s my heart that’s beating hard. Because he’s got this look in his eyes. It’s primal and possessive, and oh God, it’s delicious.

My grip slips, and I look away. Focus on the patterned weave of the duvet cover. “I’m glad you came first for once.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it.” I hear the linens sigh as he straightens. His fingers curl into the waistband of my jeans. “You on birth control?”

My stomach dips. Can’t help it—I look at him, too curious for my own good. “Yes.”

“Good.” My jeans are stretchy enough that he can pull them down without having to unbutton or unzip the fly. He gives them and my underwear several good tugs until they’re bunched at my ankles.

My pussy smarts at the sudden rush of air.

“Why?”

He unzips my booties and takes them off. Then he guides my pants and undies over my feet, dropping them on the floor. “I’m clean. I’ll send you the report. I wanna use this”—he stands, swipes his first two fingers in the cum on my back—“on this.” He nods at my pussy.