Chapter 28 #3
“So I’ve been told.” I ran my thumb along his cheekbone. “Usually by men who are stalling instead of kissing me.”
The tension broke. He laughed, a real, full laugh that shook his chest and crinkled his eyes. It was the best thing I’d ever heard come out of his mouth. Then his hand slid to the back of my neck and he pulled me in.
This kiss was different from the one behind the vendor tents.
That one had been all heat and hunger, a lit match in dry brush.
This was slower. Deeper. His mouth moved over mine with aching tenderness that made my chest hurt in the best way.
He kissed me like he was memorizing me, like he wanted to remember exactly how this felt, me in his arms at the top of a Ferris wheel with the whole sky open above and the weight of the world, for once, somewhere far below.
I melted into him, my fingers sliding from his cheeks into his hair, knocking his hat off the back of his head and onto the seat.
Neither of us reached for it. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me halfway into his lap as the car rocked with our shifting weight. But that wasn’t what I wanted.
My fingers trailed slowly down his chest, falling to his belt buckle. I undid it with deft fingers, popping the button and reaching for the zipper.
“Jules,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough.
“Shut up,” I whispered against his lips with a smile, loving being in control for once in my life.
His voice dropped into a warning register. “We’re on a Ferris wheel.”
“I’m aware.” My fingers tugged at his zipper. “You’ll just have to be quiet.”
“There are people—”
“Below us. And they can’t see a thing up here.” I held his stare as I worked my hand into the gaping denim and wrapped my fist around his hard length. “So I need you to do something for me, Stetson.”
His jaw was locked so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. His hands had gone white-knuckled on the safety bar.
I leaned in close, letting my lips brush his ear. “Don’t. Make. A sound.”
His breath left him in an uneven rush.
I slid off the bench and onto my knees between his boots.
The car rocked with the shift in weight, and his hand shot out to grip the side rail, steadying us.
I looked up at him from below, taking in the powerful, stubborn, impossibly controlled man staring down at me with pupils blown so wide the green was almost gone.
I freed him from his jeans, and his cock sprang heavy against his stomach, thick and hard and already leaking. The cool night air hit him and his abs contracted sharply, a rough sound starting in his throat before he bit down on it and swallowed it whole.
“Good boy,” I whispered, and watched his entire composure crack down the middle.
I wrapped my hand around the bulging base and took him into my mouth.
The first slow drag of my tongue up his length had his thigh muscles turning to stone beneath my hands. I took my time, learning the shape of him, the weight of him on my tongue, the way he tasted like salt and clean skin and the faintest trace of coffee.
Stetson’s breathing had gone ragged above me.
I could hear him fighting it—the iron discipline of a man who commanded a pack of Alphas being tested by the wet heat of his Omega’s mouth.
His hand found the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, but he didn’t push.
He just held on, his grip trembling with the effort of letting me set the pace.
I took him deeper and his hips jerked involuntarily. The car swayed. A strangled sound clawed its way up his throat, and he clamped his jaw shut so hard I heard his teeth click.
I pulled back just enough to whisper against him. “I said quiet, Alpha.”
His head dropped back against the seat, his hat long gone, his throat working visibly as he stared at the sky. His chest heaved in rough, controlled pulls of air that told me he was using every ounce of willpower he had.
The wheel turned. We dipped lower, the sounds of the fair growing louder as we neared the bottom—the music, the distant chatter, the clatter of booths closing up.
I paused, my lips still wrapped around him, and felt his entire body vibrate with the effort of staying silent while the ride operator was twenty feet away.
Stetson grabbed his hat, angling it in front of me to block my ministrations even though I was perfectly hidden by the metal walls and the shadows. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone waiting for a ride, and the operator had his back to the wheel, smoking while he waited out the rest of his shift.
I opened the back of my throat and swallowed him down, my lips bumping against his engorged knot, testing his control.
“Sh-shit,” he whisper-cursed, then bit down on his fist as I swallowed again all while wrapping my fist around his knot and squeezing.
Then we rose again, and I stopped teasing.
I hollowed my cheeks, took him as deep as I could, and set a rhythm that had his fingers fisting in my hair and his boots bracing hard against the floor of the car.
His abs contracted with every stroke, his breathing nothing but harsh, bitten-off exhales through his nose.
The hand in my hair tightened, released, tightened again, at war between his instinct to take control and the command I’d given him to surrender it.
“Jules—” My name fell from his lips, wrecked, barely a word, more a breathy warning than anything else.
I didn’t stop. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, holding his wild, desperate gaze, and watched the last thread of his restraint snap.
His jaw locked open in a silent groan, his body bowing forward over me as he came hard, pulsing against my tongue.
He tasted like dark roast and raw sugar and something smoky underneath that matched his scent so perfectly my Omega went feral for it.
I moaned around him, a soft, greedy sound I couldn’t have held back if my life depended on it, swallowing him down and chasing every drop like I’d been starving for exactly this flavor my entire life.
The vibration of my moan against his sensitive flesh nearly finished him off a second time, his hips bucked hard, his hand fisting in my hair as a guttural noise ripped from his chest that he barely managed to strangle into silence.
I felt the base of his cock swell further, and his whole body locked down as he fought the instinct to shove the bulge deep and knot my mouth, letting it lock behind my jaw to keep us tethered.
“Fuck— Jules— you have to—” The words came out in broken fragments through his clenched teeth.
I pulled back slowly, deliberately, dragging my tongue along his length one last time as I released him.
His thighs were shaking so hard the car was rocking.
I licked my lips, savoring the lingering taste of him on my tongue, then swiped at a dribble that had escaped the corner of my mouth with my thumb.
I sucked it clean, humming an appreciative little noise at the extra drop of flavor.
His eyes tracked every movement like a man so ruined, he may never recover.
He shook for a long time after, longer than I expected, his fingers gentle in my hair now, stroking instead of gripping.
The wheel kept turning.
I tucked him back into his jeans carefully, fastened his belt, and then climbed back onto the bench beside him, settling against his shoulder like nothing had happened.
He sat there for a full thirty seconds, breathing like he’d sprinted a mile, staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing.
“You—” His voice was destroyed. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You just—”
“Took care of you?” I offered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah. I did.”
His arm came around me so fast it startled a laugh out of me. He crushed me against his side, his mouth finding my temple, my forehead, the bridge of my nose, pressing kiss after kiss into my skin like he couldn’t figure out where to land.
“That mouth,” he rasped against my hair. “That goddamn mouth, Trouble.”
I grinned into his chest. “You’re welcome.”