Chapter Nineteen Prue #2
“I want to do this,” I say, rubbing my lips together after wetting them with a flick of my tongue.
He smiles down at me, as if he’s proud. “You can still stop at any point, okay?”
I nod, moving so the finger he’d placed under my chin rubs against my cheek. He begins brushing my face delicately. “God, you’re beautiful,” he says, exhaling. “So fucking beautiful.”
I move to kiss his hand, bringing my kisses from the warm heel of his palm to the tips of his fingers, that feel as if they’re buzzing with electricity against my skin. Looking up at him with wide-open eyes, I bring his fingers into my mouth, sucking as I run my tongue along them.
The noise that falls out of Milo is half a moan and half a shocked sort of laugh that increases my confidence tenfold. “A preview?” he asks, smiling. I nod, flicking my tongue around his calloused fingertip. “Dirty girl…”
Milo shifts his weight on the mattress. Out of the corner of my eye I see him move to stroke himself, and I react instinctively, releasing his fingers with a wet pop as I move to grip his wrist.
“ No, ” some new, deep, territorial part of me responds. The second Milo releases himself, I put both hands on his erection and begin working him over.
“Whoa,” he says, his thigh muscles tensing next to me. “S-sl-slow down,” he begs, nearly lifting off the mattress.
“Sorry,” I say, slowing my movements. I bring myself closer, then, after a quick glance up to his face, I lower my mouth down over the head of him.
I don’t have a moment to overthink what I’m doing, to question any part of it, because Milo starts praising me so earnestly, my mind doesn’t have room for anything else but his compliments.
“Fuck, Prue. That’s so good.” He groans, whimpering as his thighs flex.
“Fuck, yes, that is it. ” He winds his hand through my hair, holding the back of my neck in a possessive grip.
“That’s so good. That’s so fucking good.
” I keep going, fueled by his praises, sucking him back and licking him down as my hand squeezes and releases around his base.
Milo breathes in a way that makes me feel powerful.
His short, wavering gasps of air between shaky pleas build and build and build as the muscles in his thighs tighten further.
I can tell, after a few minutes have passed, that he’s working hard to deny himself his climax, so I pull back and allow him a reprieve.
I sit back onto my heels and stare up at him as I brush my hands up and down his thighs. Milo shakes his head, smiling down at me. He’s all flushed cheeks and dilated pupils and fucked-up hair. “Tell me you love it,” he whispers, reaching out to cradle my cheek. “Please.”
“I love it,” I say, nodding eagerly as he swipes his thumb over my swollen lips and moves to hold my chin, tightening his hold so my cheeks squeeze together and lips part.
I lick my lips before sliding his dick between them again. I welcome him back with a wistful, completely unintentional moan, as if I’d missed the taste and feel of him within those few seconds.
“Fuck, I can tell you do.” Milo’s breathing falters on a shuddering moan, his head rolling back as he continues to hold the back of my head in a tight grip.
“You are a goddamn liar, Killer.” Milo pushes me back so I have to look him in the eye, but I keep my mouth open and tongue out for him like the women in the porn videos I’ve watched.
He shakes his head, a hedonistic, admiring smile tugging at his features. “There’s no way you haven’t sucked cock before. This is—” He hisses when I move to swirl my tongue around his tip. “Too. Fucking. Good,” he says behind bared teeth.
I don’t bother hiding my prideful grin. “I told you so…” I tease, licking and kissing along his base as I move to caress his balls, holding them in a loose grip. “And you said books couldn’t teach this.”
“Books absolutely don’t teach this,” he says, flattening a hand against the wall as I take him fully and hollow out my cheeks. “This,” he says, voice strained, “is a God-given natural talent.”
“Hmm?” I tease. “Which god?” I ask, a rope of saliva connecting his tip and my bottom lip as I hover over him, my eyes trained to his. His expression darkens at the sight of it.
“All of them,” he says, in a daze. “It has to be all of them.”
I laugh, squeezing my fingers around his base as I begin bobbing my head up and down his length. He slaps the bedpost as if he’s trying to find something to hold on to, then brings a fist to his teeth. “Fucking hell, Prue. Slow down.”
“Or what?” I say, pumping him with my hand.
He whimpers, practically crying out for mercy.
“Or what?” I repeat.
“Or I might fucking propose!”
Rolling my eyes, I spit onto my palm and then use both my mouth and hand in an effort to shut him up entirely.
“Okay, fuck it then. A spring wedding sounds nice…” Milo says, his voice fried as if he’s holding his breath. “I’ll take your last name.”
I cannot help but laugh. “You’re insane.”
“I’m getting there, yes.”
I pump faster, suck harder, moan from my throat in hopes that my vocal cords will vibrate against his shaft.
“Fuck yes, Prue…” he says as I gasp for air, only departing for a split second. “Yes. Take it, take it, take it, take it,” he chants rhythmically alongside my mouth’s movements. “I’m going to come, I can’t wait anymore.”
Good, I think, I want it.
“Do you want to try and swallow?”
I make eye contact with him and smile around his shaft.
“Fuck, Killer. You sure?”
It takes just one more smile for him to unload everything he has against my tongue. And I swallow it all. The salty taste is not as awful as I thought it would be but it’s not exactly pleasant either. Still, I drink it all back as he watches me.
“Fucking hell,” Milo whispers, before falling back onto the mattress. I lick him clean, rubbing my hands up and down his thighs as he relaxes underneath me. “What the… Who are you?”
I giggle, moving to stand. “I can cross it off the list, then?” I ask, crawling into bed to lie next to him.
“Cross it all the way fucking off.” He rolls his neck to turn his face toward me. “I’m going to get you back for that…” He lays a palm on his heaving chest. “Once I stop feeling like you sucked the life out of me.”
“I was thinking Cabo for the honeymoon,” I say, slipping off one of his rings and holding it up to the light.
“Hey,” he barks, stealing it back. “That’s my job.
” He grabs my wrist with his other hand, holds his ring up to each of my fingers before determining it would fit best on my thumb.
“Cabo it is.” I can’t wait to see you in a bikini,” he says, sliding the ring onto my thumb and patting my hand before tossing it aside. “Колдунья . ”
“What does that mean?”
“Witch.”
I smile up at the ceiling, nearly giggling aloud. A second-generation Welsh witch. My mother would be so proud.