Losing It

God, he tastes good.

And it feels right.

It really does.

I take him deeper.

Deeper.

There.

I swallow to relax my throat.

It helps.

It’s still a lot, but in a good way.

In a fucking great way.

This time, I press my palm into his ass. Pull him closer as I take him deeper.

Then again.

I get it the third try.

It must be working, because his eyes are closing.

His limbs are shaking.

He presses his palm into the back of my head. It’s just hard enough to demand more.

Fuck, it’s hot.

My body buzzes.

He brings his free hand to my shoulder.

Then my chest.

His fingers brush my nipple.

Then he’s rolling my tender bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Fuck.

I pull back enough to suck on his tip.

He toys with me.

I drag my mouth over him.

When I take him as far as I can, I wrap my hand around him. Use it like an extension of my mouth.

It must be what he likes, because his groans get louder.

He toys harder.

Shifts his hips into my mouth.

Lets out a low, deep groan.

God, that’s a beautiful sound.

I swallow to relax my throat.

Then I take him as deep as I can.

A few thrusts of his hips, and he’s there.

His cock pulses.

“Fuck, Quinn.” He tugs at my hair as he spills into my mouth.

He’s salty. Warm. Sticky.

I wait until he’s finished. Then I swallow hard.

He looks down at me with heavy lids. Offers his hand.

I take it. Let him pull me up.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Fuck. You’re amazing.”

“It was okay?”

“Fucking amazing, angel.”

“Really?” I ask.

“What did I tell you?”

“I… Thank you.”

He kisses me hard.

God, that’s everything.

When he pulls back, I’m shaking.

He brings his lips to my ear. “Don’t think I forgot my plans.”

“Oh?”

“You’re still coming on my face.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Wes

“After.” Her cheeks flush. “My plans aren’t as explosive, but… Oh my God, did I just describe that as explosive?”

“Yeah.” My chest warms. She’s so fucking adorable. I’m not sure how it’s possible for her to be this rambling after I came in her mouth, but she is. She’s just… Quinn.

“That was terrible.” She spins on her heels and moves to the closet. “I’m going to get dressed. Do you need something to wear?”

“You don’t want me sitting around your place naked?”

“You’re welcome to stay naked.” She turns back to me with a coy smile. “But it will be distracting.”

“I’m okay with that.”

She shakes her head. “We have important plans.”

“More important than tasting your cunt?”

Her blush spreads to her chest. Her tongue slides over her lips. “It’s kind of hard to compare.”

“That a no?”

“Would you like something to wear or not, Wes?”

“Am I getting obnoxious?”

“No.” She pulls open a drawer. Slides on a pair of panties. A matching beige bra. “Not yet.”

Mmm. Fuck. I want her coming on my face now. Not later.

I want us here.

This makes sense.

This is something I’m good at.

A way I can help her.

Out there—

Fuck, I don’t know.

She moves to the closet. Picks out a red dress. Unzips it and slides it over her head.

It hugs her curves like it was made for them.

Which doesn’t help with the whole wanting her to come on my face thing.

But I’m a gentleman.

All right, that’s bullshit. I’m not a gentleman, but I do have manners. I’m not leaving her hungry.

Or worn.

Or—

What the hell is it we’re doing?

“You have something I can wear?” I ask.

“I think Owen left something last time he stayed here.” She moves to the dresser. Bends to pull open the bottom drawer. Her brow furrows as she rifles. “Ah. Here.” She pulls out a black t-shirt. Laughs. “This is perfect for you.” She tosses me a t-shirt and a matching pair of shorts.

They’re both screen printed with Cock Hungry in a rainbow font.

“Exactly what I wanted. How’d you know?” I pull on the shorts. They’re a little small for me, but they work.

She stares as I slide into the t-shirt. “God, you’re really wearing that. Can I… No, I can’t send that to Owen. He’ll have opinions.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“You tell your brothers who you’re fucking?”

“Usually, yeah.” I open the door. Motion after me. “Hard to brag without telling them.”

“Do you really?”

I arch a brow.

“Are you still trying to convince me you’re this asshole with nothing in his heart.”

“Is it working?”

Her laugh lights up her hazel eyes. “No. I think we’re past that.” She moves through the door. Leads me to the living room.

We are.

She actually knows me.

It’s terrifying.

Thrilling.

I follow her into the kitchen. “You want me to cook something?”

“Mmm.” Her hand goes to her stomach. “Yeah. I’m starving. But I don’t really have enough for two.”

“I’ll work it out.”

She shoots me an incredulous look.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do. I just…”

“Like being in control?”

“Not exactly.”

I arch a brow.

“Only a little.”

I arch my other brow.

She laughs. “I’m not that bad.” She pulls the fridge open and steps aside. “See. You have free rein.”