Chapter Sixteen
He really was the sweetest man, no matter that his mouth twisted in distaste when she said that. ’Twas no wonder her affections grew every day. All aspects of him appealed to her—intellect, brawn, and how he held her in high esteem, regardless of her position in life.
She reached out, then hesitated. “May I touch it?”
“Yes, please.” His voice was hoarse.
She rather liked him begging. She wrapped her hand around his cock, shocked at how hot it was. No wonder it was swollen and red. Or perhaps it got hot because it swelled? No matter, she’d investigate that next time.
Right now, finding his favorite spots was what she wanted most. He’d seemed to know hers without help the previous night. “What feels best?”
His eyes were closed when she flicked a glance up at him, his mouth slack. “All of it. Any of it. Perhaps next time I can be more specific. Right now, I’m overcome.” Her fingers slid up and over the edge of the mushroom head, and he groaned.
“Ah ha.” She circled her fingers around him right below that lip of skin and glided them up and down in small movements.
“Evie, ah gads.”
She stopped. “I don’t want to end this too soon. You toyed with me last night, and I’m not done exploring here.”
His hips lowered from where he’d raised them toward her, and he sagged against the bench. She hadn’t even noticed.
Bringing her other hand to the pouch below the steel rod she held, she cupped it gently.
“Ah, yes.” His cock leaped in her hand and she nearly released it. It oozed more liquid.
“Evie, if you keep this up, I’ll come. A fountain of it.” He moved his arms to grip the sides of the bench above his hips and his knuckles were white with strain.
An idea formed.
He stared at her through bleary eyes.
She smirked. “Based on last night, and conversations belowstairs, and your concern for my apparel, it seems best that I find a way to avoid a mess.”
With that, she leaned down and licked him.
He shouted an unintelligible curse.
She barely noticed. He was salty and thick and unlike anything she’d ever tasted.
More, she wanted his cock to leap in her mouth, wanted to run her tongue around that domed head, wanted to swallow against him and feel him enter her in a way different and yet similar to the night before.
Sealing her lips around his head, she pressed her tongue against the edge of the helmet and sucked.
“Evie!” he whisper-shouted. His hands had come up to hover over her hair.
She slipped him out, still holding him at her lips, and smiled. “You can touch me.”
“No, you don’t understand. If I do, I’ll want to pull your head until your nose is pressed against me, unable to breathe, wanting to gag.”
“Really? That’s what you like?” She tilted her head.
His hips kept jerking through her grip in tiny movements as though unable to remain still. He nodded.
“I’m willing to try. Touch me as you’d like.” And with that, she sank her mouth onto him, sliding him in as far as she could. When the back of her throat stopped his progress, she kept pushing and angling, trying to figure out how to make it work.
When she came up for breath, frustrated, he said, “Evie, what you were doing before was fantastic. I never dreamed I’d have your mouth on me at all. You don’t need to—ahh.”
She’d swallowed him down again, ignoring his mutterings. Finally, his hand came to push his length down, changing the angle in her mouth and throat, and oh, there it went.
It cut off her air, so she slid up, took a deep breath, and slid back down again.
“Evie, Evie,” he said urgently, his hands tugging at her. “You’ll get more than you bargained for if you do that again.”
He has no idea what I bargained for. He’d done the same for her last night, finishing her until his face was wet. She wanted their exchange to be fair and equally pleasurable.
Fair in this, perhaps, but you’re lying to him. How fair is that?
Shutting away such extraneous thoughts, she raised her head, took a deep breath, and sucked him as deep as she could.
Under her, his hips continued to jerk, and his fingers threaded through her hair. “Yes, Evie, yes. Drink it all, then.”
His cock pulsed in her mouth, rippling, nearly making her gag, followed by hot liquid spurting down her throat in blast after blast. So this was how his orgasms felt.
She liked it a lot. There was power in having her mouth on him, his essence pouring into her, knowing she’d caused that.
She was unbearably aroused, but strangely sated.
As he had said the night before, this was all the satisfaction she needed for the night.
There would be other times for mutual exploration.
And throughout, he’d been so careful with her once again. This man would make a fantastic husband.
She was almost positive she was in love with him, but she wanted a bit more time to explore that and all of this new world of sensuality. Aunt Lou would be able to help her find the courage to reveal her identity. She hoped.