Chapter 11
Xavier
“Go on,” I urged, pushing the sheriff toward his desk chair. “Sit down.”
He looked confused. But he was so pliable under my hands that he did what he was told without question.
Like an obedient dog, he went and plopped down in the chair.
He got comfortable, spreading his legs a little bit.
The fabric of his pants were stretched to capacity, his hard cock straining to be set free.
I’d only felt him for a moment, but from what I could tell, the guy was hung like a horse.
Clearly, everything was bigger in Texas.
I walked over to him slowly, letting my hips sway just enough to draw his attention.
His eyes tracked every movement, hungry and desperate in a way that made heat pool in my belly.
This powerful man, this sheriff who commanded respect from an entire town, was putty in my hands. And God, did I love it.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” I asked, dropping to my knees between his thick muscular thighs. His breath hitched, and I watched his hands grip the armrests of his chair hard enough that his knuckles went white. “I’ve been thinking about what you taste like.”
“Xavier...” My name came out strangled, almost pleading.
I ran my hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath the fabric.
“I’ve been thinking about it since that first day at Dolly’s.
Wondering what it would be like to have you in my mouth.
” I looked up at him through my lashes, enjoying the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath. “Want to know a secret, Sheriff?”
He nodded, seemingly incapable of speech.
“I’ve never had a man of the law before.”
My fingers found his belt buckle, and I took my time unfastening it, drawing out the anticipation. His breathing grew more ragged with each passing second, and when I finally popped the button on his pants and slowly lowered the zipper, the sound seemed deafening in the quiet office.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of both his pants and his boxer briefs, looking up at him one more time. “Last chance to stop this,” I murmured.
“Don’t stop,” he said, his voice rough with need. “Please don’t stop.”
That please nearly undid me. I tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock.
And Jesus Christ, I hadn’t been wrong. The man was absolutely massive, his cock thick and heavy, already leaking at the tip.
It curved slightly upward, and the sight of it made my mouth water.
I’d been with plenty of men in my life, but there was something about Marcus—about the way he was looking at me with those desperate green eyes, about the vulnerability written all over his face—that made this feel different.
“Fuck, Marcus,” I breathed, wrapping one hand around the base. He was hot and heavy in my palm, and when I gave him a slow stroke, his hips jerked up involuntarily. “You’ve been hiding this the whole time?”
He let out a choked laugh. “Wasn’t exactly planning on showing it to you.”
“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind.” I leaned forward, maintaining eye contact as I dragged my tongue along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip. The taste of him exploded across my tongue. He was salty and musky in the best way and I hummed in appreciation.
His hand flew to my hair, fingers threading through the strands. “Oh fuck,” he groaned.
But I wasn’t done teasing him yet. I wanted to draw this out, wanted to make him beg for it. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, lapping up the precum that had gathered there, and was rewarded with a strangled moan that went straight to my own neglected dick.
“You taste so fucking good,” I murmured against his skin before taking just the tip into my mouth. His grip tightened in my hair, not pushing but holding on like I was his anchor to reality.
I hollowed my cheeks and sucked gently, my tongue working against the sensitive underside while my hand stroked what I couldn’t fit in my mouth yet. Marcus was trembling above me, his thighs shaking on either side of my shoulders, and I’d barely even started.
“Xavier, I—” He cut himself off with another groan as I took him deeper, inch by torturous inch.
I pulled off with an obscene pop, stroking him slowly. “You what, Sheriff? Use your words.”
“I’m not gonna last,” he admitted, his face flushed a deep red that spread down his neck and chest. “It’s been... it’s been a long time.”
Something about that confession made my chest tight. This man, so starved for touch, for connection, for the freedom to be himself. I wanted to give him everything.
“Then don’t last,” I said, pressing a kiss to his hip bone. “We’ve got all night. You can cum as many times as you want.”
His eyes went wide at that, like the idea of multiple orgasms was some kind of revelation. God, what had this man been denying himself?
I took him back into my mouth, this time not holding back. I relaxed my throat and took him as deep as I could, gagging slightly when he bottomed out. The sound he made was inhuman, a deep guttural groan that vibrated through his entire body.
“Fuck, fuck, Xavier—” His hips jerked up involuntarily, and I had to press them back down with my free hand.
I set a slow, torturous rhythm, taking my time with each stroke of my tongue, each pull of my lips.
I wanted him to feel every second of this, wanted to burn myself into his memory so thoroughly that he’d never forget it.
My other hand came up to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently, and his whole body went rigid.
“I’m close,” he gasped out, tugging on my hair like he was trying to warn me, trying to give me a chance to pull away.
Instead, I doubled down, taking him deeper, sucking harder, working him with everything I had. I wanted to taste him, wanted him to cum in my mouth, wanted to give him this release he’d been denying himself for God knows how long.
“Xavier, I’m gonna—oh fuck—”
His cock pulsed on my tongue, and then he was cumming, spilling hot and thick down my throat.
I swallowed around him, taking everything he gave me, my eyes watering slightly from the effort of keeping him deep while he pulsed and throbbed against my tongue.
His thighs clamped around my shoulders, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm, and the sounds he was making—broken, desperate, almost pained—went straight to my aching cock.
When he finally stopped trembling, I pulled off slowly, licking him clean with gentle swipes of my tongue.
He was still half-hard, twitching with aftershocks, and the sight made me feel powerful in a way I’d never experienced before.
Marcus Webb, the stoic sheriff of Sagebrush, completely undone by my mouth.
I sat back on my heels, wiping my lips with the back of my hand, and looked up at him.
His head was thrown back against the chair, chest heaving, one arm draped over his eyes like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
The other hand was still in my hair, his fingers now stroking through the strands almost absently.
“Jesus Christ,” he finally breathed, his voice absolutely wrecked. “That was...”
“Good?” I supplied, unable to keep the smug satisfaction out of my voice.
He lifted his arm just enough to look down at me, and the expression on his face made my breath catch. It wasn’t just satisfaction or relief. There was something softer there, something vulnerable that made my chest feel tight.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he said with such earnest honesty that I actually felt myself blush. Which was ridiculous. I didn’t blush. I was Xavier Hart, professional flirt. I’d been with more men than I could count.
But something about the way Marcus was looking at me, like I’d just given him something precious instead of just a really good orgasm, made me feel exposed in a way I wasn’t used to.
“Well,” I said, trying to regain some of my composure, “I aim to please.”
He reached down, his large hand cupping my jaw with surprising tenderness. “Come here.”
I stood up, my knees protesting slightly from being on the hard floor, and he pulled me down onto his lap. His cock was still out, softening against his thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. He just wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world.
I could feel my own erection pressing painfully against my jeans, trapped and neglected, but I was too caught up in the kiss to care. Marcus kissed like he did everything else—with complete focus and intensity. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment.
When he finally pulled back, his green eyes were dark and heated. “Your turn,” he murmured, his hands wrapping around my waist.
“You don’t have—”
But my words were cut off as he lifted me clean off the floor and up onto the desk like I weighed nothing.
The sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
I barely had time to process what was happening before Marcus’s hands were on me, tugging my jeans and underwear down my thighs with an urgency that made my head spin.
The cool air of the office hit my overheated skin, and I shivered, though whether from the temperature or anticipation, I couldn’t say.
“Fuck,” Marcus breathed, his eyes locked on my cock like he was seeing something miraculous. His hand wrapped around me, and I gasped at the contact. His palm was rough, calloused from years of physical work, and the friction was perfect.
“Marcus,” I managed, my voice already thick with need. I’d been hard since before I’d even walked into his office, anticipation coiling tight in my belly, and now that he was actually touching me, I felt like I might combust.
He stroked me slowly, almost reverently, his thumb swiping over the head to collect the precum that had been steadily leaking. “You’re so smooth,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Not a hair anywhere.”
“I wax,” I admitted, which was a ridiculous thing to be talking about when his hand was on my dick, but my brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders. “Everything. I like being smooth.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes, and his grip tightened just slightly. “I like it too.”
Then, before I could respond, he dropped to his knees between my spread thighs, and my brain short-circuited entirely.
“Wait, you don’t have to—” I started, because this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to be the one in control, the one giving him what he needed. Not the other way around.
But Marcus looked up at me with those intense green eyes, and whatever protest I’d been forming died on my lips. “I want to,” he said simply. “Let me.”
And then his mouth was on me, hot and wet and fucking perfect, and I forgot how to breathe.
He started slow, just like I had with him, taking his time to explore with his tongue.
But there was an eagerness to it, a hunger that suggested he’d been thinking about this just as much as I had.
His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he worked me over with a thoroughness that made my toes curl.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped, my hands flying to his hair. It was softer than I expected, thick between my fingers, and I couldn’t stop myself from gripping it as he took me deeper.
He pulled off just long enough to look up at me, his lips slick and swollen. “Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice rough. “I want to make this good for you.”
The fact that he was asking, that he cared about my pleasure even in the middle of this, made something warm bloom in my chest. “You’re already doing amazing,” I told him honestly. “Just... keep doing that.”
He didn’t need me to tell him twice. His mouth was back on me immediately, and this time there was nothing tentative about it.
He took me deep, his throat relaxing around me in a way that suggested this wasn’t his first time, despite what his earlier nervousness might have implied.
Those trips to Austin clearly hadn’t been wasted.
The thought should have bothered me—picturing Marcus with other men—but instead it just made me hotter.
The idea that he’d been doing this in secret, hiding this part of himself, starving for connection while maintaining that stoic sheriff facade for the whole town.
It felt like living a fantasy I didn’t know I had.
“Fuck, Marcus,” I groaned, my hips jerking up involuntarily. He didn’t pull back, just gripped my thighs harder and took it, letting me fuck his mouth with shallow thrusts that were driving me absolutely insane.
I’d had plenty of blowjobs in my life. More than I could count, honestly.
But there was something about this—about Marcus on his knees for me in his office, still wearing his sheriff’s badge even though his pants were around his ankles—that was doing things to me I didn’t want to examine too closely.
His tongue worked along the underside of my cock, finding that spot that made me see stars, and I couldn’t hold back the string of curses that fell from my lips. My fingers tightened in his hair, and I felt him moan around me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my entire body.
“I’m close,” I warned him, giving him the same courtesy he’d given me. “Marcus, I’m gonna—”
But he didn’t pull off. Instead, he doubled down, one hand coming up to cup my balls while the other gripped my hip, holding me in place as he worked me with single-minded determination. His eyes met mine, and the need in them was what pushed me over the edge.
I came with a strangled cry, my whole body going rigid as pleasure crashed over me in waves.
Marcus swallowed around me, taking everything I gave him, and the sight of it was incredible.
There was the town sheriff on his knees, swallowing my cum like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
It was almost enough to get me hard again immediately.
When I finally came back to myself, boneless and satisfied in a way I hadn’t been in months, Marcus was pressing gentle kisses to my inner thighs, his hands stroking soothing patterns on my skin. The tenderness of it caught me off guard.
“Jesus,” I breathed, running my fingers through his hair more gently now. “You’re full of surprises, Sheriff.”
He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and I saw a flush of pride color his cheeks at the compliment. “I told you,” he said, his voice rough and wrecked. “It’s been a long time. But I haven’t forgotten how.”
I pulled him up by his shirt collar and forced my lips to his. “Make sure you don’t,” I said, biting at his lower lip as he pulled away. “Because I want another one of those as soon as you’re ready.”
His cheeks reddened, his hand reaching down to stroke his own cock. “Anytime you want, beautiful.”
My heart did a little flip. A pet name already? This sheriff was fucking dangerous.