Breath Of Life

I nod my head, embarrassed by my irrationality. “I don’t think we should tempt fate.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m not going to torture us both to satisfy some misplaced sense of pride. It’s a bad habit I thought I’d broken years ago.”

I palm his neck and pull his mouth down to mine. He hums as I take charge, thrusting my tongue between his lips as I demand entrance. He grips my ass, and I move my head to the right, deepening our kiss as I rock my hips, pressing myself against the rapidly growing bulge in his pants at just the right angle. My breasts swell, and my panties grow damp. The man sets me on fire like no man before him. It could have to do with the fact that I’m at my sexual peak at thirty-two. Somehow, I think it’s this particular man. Our chemistry is instantaneous, and I’m melting from the inside out as our tongues battle for dominance. We both have strong personalities. Courting has been a mixed bag of compromise and privacy as we figure things out and work on convincing the rest of the world we’re different, not damaged.

He walks me backward until the backs of my legs hit the couch and gently lowers me down. I spread my legs, welcoming his weight on top of me. I take care around his wound. A gunshot is not something one heals from in a month or two. He grinds into my crotch, and I whimper and roll my hips into the bulge of his jeans. I’m tired of wondering what’s beneath the denim. I reach between us and stroke him through the rough material. He’s thick, hard, and at least eight inches. My stomach tightens and my nipples strain against my bra. I’ve been one giant arousal since he kissed me in his kitchen. It’s time we both do something about it.

I cup him, and he grunts. Moving my hand back up, I pop the button on his jeans. He stills.

“Down,” I whisper.

Together we manage to work his pants down around his thighs. Too eager to wait, I slip my hands inside his black boxer briefs and retrieve my prize, baring him to the light. His cock curves slightly to the right and has a deep red tip that makes my mouth water. I grip his base, and he twitches in my hand. I lick my lips and stroke upward, twisting my wrist as I rub his slit with my thumb. The warm wetness that coats my finger makes me moan.

“I want to make you as wet as I am.”

His pupils dilate, and I give a throaty chuckle. For once he’s at my mercy. I grip him tighter and pump faster.

“Oh, shit.” His raspy response gets me high. I watch his eyes darken as he turns to living stone in my hand.

“I want to taste you, Ollie.”

“Whatever my lady wants,” he says hoarsely. I slip from the couch on onto my knees, waiting for him to sit back in a comfortable position. I don’t want to hinder his healing progress, but we both need this. After pushing his pants down around his ankles, I massage his inner thighs as I slide my hands up to grasp his dick. I bend down and take him into my mouth, moaning at the salty taste of his warm length. I circle his tip with my tongue taking just the head into my mouth. He thrusts up, and I smirk as I move back.

“Quinn.”

“Patience,” I whisper as I lick the underside with my tongue, tracing the large, prominent vein. His tip is dripping with pre-come and has turned a deep shade of purple as it filled with blood. I kiss the tip and hold his gaze as I wrap my lips around him.

“Oh, God.” He inhales, and I hollow my cheeks as I take as much of him in as I can, warming my mouth up. It’s been a long time for me. He rolls his hips up, seeking more, and I take him deeper little by little until he’s at the back of my throat. I close my throat muscles, and he grunts. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and I twist my wrist, traveling his length as I take him in and out. The tiny pants escaping his mouth have me creaming in my panties. I’m the one giving him this pleasure and taking his mind off everything he’s been through.

He balls his fist in my hair, and I hum. I unleash a beast as he drives into my mouth. The raw passion and lack of control is an aphrodisiac. I moan, pressing my thighs together as I take everything he has to give. I gag as he goes too deep, but I love every minute of it. Ollie is so laid back and regulated seeing this side of him is everything.

“I’m gonna come.”

His body tenses and he lets go, spraying the back of my throat. I struggle to get it all down as it dribbles out of my mouth and he pushes it back in with his thumb. I lick it off, enamored with the man who’s looking at me like I just hung the moon and the stars in the night sky.

“My sassy girl is so damn beautiful.”

I rest my head on his lap, and he strokes my hair, filling me with warm tingles that have nothing to do with the river in my underwear.

“Let me catch my breath, and it’s your turn.”

I lift my head, alarmed. “No, your wound.”

“That’s why you’re going to bring that pussy to me and sit on my face.”

My walls flex, and I bite my lip in anticipation. The last guy I dated hated to give head. So, I’m looking forward to it like a dieter to their favorite dessert on cheat day.

“I’m going to take care of you sassy. I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste for too long now.” His voice is velvet seduction. Rich, soft, and irresistible. He lulls me into a relaxed state while heightening my arousal as he massages my scalp and pets my hair. I never thought I’d be the type to like submission, but when it’s to Ollie, it’s different. There’s nothing one-sided about it. We give and take as it pleases us.

He’s barely touched me, and my body is ablaze with want.

“Are you ready for me, sassy?”

“So ready.”