Throttled (Dirty Air 1) - Page 77
She toys with the zipper of my race suit.
“You look so hot in this. I almost don’t want to unzip it.” Her words bring a smile to my face.
I shut her up with a kiss because I don’t want to risk Santiago hearing us. My tongue explores her mouth, enjoying her exclusive taste, one I find addicting as hell. A magnetic energy flows around us, always pulling me back toward her. Not that I want to stay away. Our tongues dance and tease each other. Our kiss stifles her moan as my hands explore her body, my rough fingers brushing against her smooth skin.
My hands palm her perfect tits. I pull down the soft cups of her bra, revealing her perky breasts and tight, pink nipples. The best fucking sight. I trail wet kisses down her neck, sucking to the point of marking her. Fuck would I like to. But I move along because I don’t have enough time.
My dick throbs, rock-hard in my suit and craving her attention.
Her hands get caught up in my hair, tugging me along for encouragement. I’m a man on a mission with a time limit.
“Sh.” I rub the rough pad of my thumb against her lips.
Her heavy breathing might give us away. She nods, staring down at me while I pull one of her taut nipples into my mouth. Her back arches as she pushes herself closer to me. I suck one nipple to a solid point before moving on to the other, my tongue trailing along the divot in her chest.
My other hand finds the button of her jeans. I dip my hand below, finding her slick and ready for me. Talk about the best fucking feeling, to turn her on with minimal effort required.
Her wild eyes and messy hair drive me crazy. Nothing compares to satiating the hunger between us, being able to please her to the point of oblivion.
Maya’s hand touches the outline of my dick through the race suit. She palms me, doing soft movements up and down.
“Time to take this off,” she says in a husky murmur.
Good girl.
The thrilling sound of the zipper rings through the room. Maybe Maya corrupts me just as much because I never do anything like this before a race.
I pull my arms out of the top part of the suit and finish unzipping to my waistline. The clock tells me we have fifteen minutes left. While I wish I had more time with her, a quickie will do. She tugs my dick out from the tight layers of flame-retardant material.
She gets down on her knees. The sight alone makes my dick pulse, pre-cum leaking from the tip before she grabs onto it. Her tongue darts out to lick the white bead.
My head drops back.
Shit, her mouth feels good.
She traces lazy lines with her tongue across the shaft. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. All so motherfucking perfect.
She takes me in her mouth, a warm, wet heaven welcoming my cock. Her tongue drags along the underside of my shaft as she pulls her mouth back and forth. She sucks, pumps, and licks me. Sensations make my brain short-circuit.
She pumps me into her mouth with one hand while another grips my ass. I regain enough mental clarity to pull her up, her lips popping as my dick bobs.
“Nope. That’s not how this is going to go today.”
Her honey-brown eyes narrow. I trail my thumb across her plump lips, loving how she looks after sucking me off. A brief kiss wipes the frown off her face.
I tug down her jeans and thong. She’s right there with me, fumbling with taking off her sneakers. The best kind of teamwork.
Red numbers on the clock mock me.
“Now you have to be quiet,” I whisper before licking the shell of her ear, her body breaking out in goosebumps.
She likes the quiet game we play, wondering who will mess up first.
I place her hands on the side of the gray couch. The suite is small, not meant for sex. But fuck it, I can make the layout work with a little extra effort.
“Keep your hands there.” I grab a condom from my wallet.
Thank God for planning ahead.
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