Jock Blocked

I turned around and faced him, placing my hand on the necklace, my fingers at the base of my throat. It was smooth, the wings outstretched, the detailing simplistic … just how I liked. I’d never been one to be into flashy things, to be into jewelry, but this right here, this was my favorite thing I owned.

I knew that without a doubt.

“It’s perfect,” I said softly and looked down, as if I could see the necklace that rested against my neck. “Thank you,” I said again.

He reached out and ran a finger along my cheek. Although I didn’t cry any longer, I could imagine him brushing the tears away. “I wanted to make today special, and although dinner at my house probably isn’t what you imagined—”

“It’s perfect, Cannon. As long as I’m spending it with you, it really is perfect.” And I meant that more than anything else in the entire world.

He took a step closer and the atmosphere changed, the air felt sexually charged. The longer we stared at each other, the more I felt my desire for him grow.

God, I was so wet. He stood in front of me with this hungry expression on his face. The table was right behind me now, my hands flat on the cloth that covered the wood. I should have known that my emotions and arousal would take priority over everything else. We’d just been together last night, and my body was still lit up like a firework from it.

He took a step closer until his chest was pressed right to mine. I stared up at this boy, wanting nothing more than to feel his powerful body over mine, to be in his bed, to have him over me. He was so hard, his cock pressed against my belly. My breasts pressed against my shirt, and I knew my nipples were hard, felt them dig against the material.

He looked at my lips, this low, deep sound leaving him.

And then, Cannon gripped my waist, lifted me up, and set me on the table. He dropped to his knees in front of me, placed both his hands on my legs, and pushed my thighs open. The skirt I wore rode up, the feel of the vibrations from Cannon’s groan settling right in the center of me.

Our gazes locked for a heartbeat. Then he slid his fingers under my skirt, gripped the edge of my panties, and started to pull them down. I lifted my hips slightly to make the act easier, the air leaving me violently as he pulled them away and tucked them in the pocket of his jeans. I didn’t know how we’d gone from cake and a necklace to Cannon on his knees between my legs, but I wasn’t complaining.

He shoved my skirt up all the way, the cool air moving along my pussy. He looked up at me from between my legs, his hands on my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh. The feel of his warm breath skating across the center of my body could have made me climax right then.

The sight of him looking up at me had every erogenous zone in my body lighting up. He had to know the effect he had on me.

“I have to taste you,” he whispered.

I licked my lips and nodded. I leaned back slightly, my feet resting on the edge of the table.

God, we were really doing this right here on the table, in his kitchen.

And then he had his tongue right between my thighs. I opened my mouth and cried out, tipped my head back, and closed my eyes.

He used that muscle to run up my center, sucking my wetness off and causing more to come from me. He was so incredibly slow with his ministrations, so agonizingly slow with licking my pussy, that I found myself pressing closer to him, trying to have him give me more. My hands seemed to have a mind of their own and gripped handfuls of his hair. And when he pulled back, breaking the spell he had on me, I groaned.

“I want to go slow.”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t need slow.” The arousal pounded through me.

He groaned and smoothed his hands up my legs, framed my pussy with his hands, and resumed licking me. With my eyes closed, my body aching for him, I just let myself feel.

His tongue moved up and down my slit, teasing my clit on the upstroke and pressing minutely inside of me on the down stroke. My legs were starting to shake, my climax threatening to rise up swiftly and end this before it really even started.

Over and over he brought me close to climax but wouldn’t exert enough pressure to actually bring me over the edge. I wanted to beg him to make me come, but plead with him to take his time.