Chapter 19 #2
I cry out, covering my own mouth, trying to muffle the loud sound. Wes slows, but doesn’t stop, wringing every last inch of my orgasm from me until I’m pushing at his head for mercy.
He pulls back, giving me a broad grin, then dips back down to give me one final lick from hole to clit. I jolt from the sensitivity, and he laughs.
He gets to his feet, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Better than I remembered,” he says, his grin turning cocky.
His hair is mussed from me pulling on it, and his cheeks are flushed. I glance down and see his very hard, very large bulge straining against his pants. And I can’t stand it. I pull him in by his shirt, and he comes willingly.
Slowly tipping my head up to meet his mouth, I give him a gentle but deep kiss. I swipe my tongue in and taste myself on him, satisfaction thrumming inside me. We break apart, and he brings his hand up to my face, gently stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.
“You’re so god damn beautiful,” he whispers, almost absentmindedly while scanning my features.
Yep, it’s happening.
I lower my feet off of the counter top, sitting up straight, and guiding him back with my hands on his chest. He steps back to give me some room, and by the look on his face, he is absolutely stunned when I drop to my knees in front of him, and reach for his belt.
His wide eyes on mine, he gently pauses my hands with his.
“Hold on, Ivy. You don’t have to, this was about you. I don’t expect anything from you,” he says so tenderly, it only makes me want him more.
I give him my best doe-eyed innocent look. “I want to. Please.”
He dives both hands into his hair, and nods quickly, giving in instantly.
I smirk. Victory.
I unfasten his worn leather belt, and make quick work of the button and zipper. He helps pull down his pants a bit, and I come face to face with his hard cock straining against his tight black boxer briefs. My mouth waters.
I give it a few strokes with my open palm over the fabric, pressing down, adding pressure. His eyes roll and he lets out a gravelly, “Fuck.”
He’s staring down at me with his hands resting atop his head in utter disbelief. It makes me smile—almost giddy. I slide my fingers into his waist band, and pull his boxer briefs down.
His cock springs free, and I stare in awe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier dick. He’s big, and perfectly shaped. His tip is red and swollen, already dripping pre-cum. I look up, making eye contact with him as I dart my tongue out, and lick up the drop.
The cutest sound escapes him. It’s strangled and needy, and I need more of it.
His eyes are wild and full of lust. Bringing his hands down, he helps move my hair out of my way and back behind my shoulders.
He tenderly pets the top of my head, then cups my jaw, his large hand covering from my chin to the back of my neck.
I slip him into my mouth and swirl my tongue over the head.
The taste of his pre-cum mixed with the musky, clean scent of him makes me go feral.
I hum and take him down as far as I possibly can.
He hits the back of my throat, and I breathe out through my nose, relaxing the muscle before taking him even further.
“Ivy, fuck,” Wesley groans, continuing to pet my head—my heart soars at the affection.
I brace my hands on his thighs, and start bobbing up and down, sucking and swirling my flattened tongue up the underside of his hard, smooth cock, with long methodical strokes. His breathing grows ragged, and he threads his fingers through the hair at my temples.
He rakes his fingers all the way through until he holds my entire skull between his hands, and I moan around him.
Yes. Do that.
I tell him as much when I meet his eye, and nod as much as I can. He takes the hint and growls, tightening his grip on my hair. I take him to the back of my throat again, and swallow around the head of his cock. I suck and lick with wild abandon, and Wesley straight up moans.
Loudly.
“Oh, you’re taking me so well, baby. Just like that. That’s my girl,” Wesley praises, and I bask in it.
The term of endearment, and the sound of his blatant pleasure only spurs me on, fueling my fire. It’s like a drug, and I need more, immediately. I pick up the pace, then take a note from his book, gathering as much spit as I can, and letting my saliva drip, leaving a trail from my lips to the head.
I spread the spit down with my hand, giving him a few long pumps. He moans again, then guides my head back to his length, pressing all the way in, to the back of my throat.
I grip the base of him in my fist, then continue to swirl and suck eagerly, twisting and stroking him in tandem.
Using my other hand, I cup his balls, gently rolling them and tugging them over and over.
I moan and hum, the sound of my sucking is loud and crass.
His hand on my head helps me bob up and down.
“Yes, yes,” he growls. “Fuck. That feels so fucking good.” I feel his low, gruff voice skate over my skin, making goosebumps wash over me.
I look up at him through watery lashes. The saliva starts to leak out the sides of my mouth, and I remove my hands, relaxing my head and neck into his tight grip, surrendering.
He quirks his brow, mouth open and panting hard.
I nod. Yes, do it.
He growls and I can tell his control is slipping.
Yes. That’s exactly what I want.
He cups my head, and starts to tentatively fuck my mouth, but when he pushes a little too far, I gag. He quickly retreats, and wipes the tears from my cheek with his thumb.
“Shit, sorry.”
I shake my head, and grab his ass pulling him back in, and relaxing my throat for him.
“Oh, fuck. Ivy. Baby.” His groan nearly turns into a whimper. “You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth?”
I nod my approval, then release him with a loud pop. “Yes. Stop holding back. I can take it.”
And that’s when I witness the exact moment his tether snaps.
“Tap me if it’s too much,” he growls.
Wesley fucks my mouth wildly. He thrusts in, hitting the back of my throat over and over, frantically chasing his release. I completely submit to him, letting him use me and my mouth to his full desire. I stroke his thighs, and cup his balls, touching every inch of skin I can get my hands on.
I breathe through my nose, relinquishing all control. Our gazes lock and I can feel the tears running down my cheeks, and the spit dripping from my mouth onto my thighs. I can only imagine the vulgar sight he sees right now.
“Jesus Christ. You were made for me,” he moans out.
Even though I just came, I’m needy again, and shifting my thighs, looking for relief.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he commands.
My eyes roll at the use of the pet name again. I don’t hesitate, obeying in a flash and bringing my hand down to rub my clit in quick circles. I moan around his length, and he hisses at the feel of it.
“Show me how wet that sweet cunt is,” he says through gritted teeth.
I dip into my center, then lift my hand in the air, displaying two drenched fingers. He grips my wrist with one hand and sucks both of my waiting fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them, humming.
He releases my hand, then returns his own to my head. “Make yourself come. I wanna see you fall apart on your knees, pretty girl.”
Holy shit. I could come from his words alone.
I bring my hand back down, and grind down onto my hand, rubbing my clit fervently until the orgasm tears through me out of nowhere, making my back arch, which only pushes him further down my throat. He releases a rough groan, and stammers quickly.
“If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, pull away now.”
I shake my head, grip the back of his thighs and pull him into me harder.
His eyes roll back, and he tilts his head to the ceiling, muttering, “Made for me” before his dick swells, and he spills down my throat.
His cum fills my mouth and I swallow down every drop, completely drunk on him and his addictive smell and taste.
I swipe my tongue around him one last time, cleaning him, and he sighs a sound of contentment. He slowly releases my hair, and brushes it away from my face. Using his thumbs, he brushes away the tears—and I’m sure mascara—running down my cheeks.
The look on his face is pure admiration. It makes my heart pound wildly. I swipe my finger at the corner of my lips, and slip it into my mouth to clean it off. He pulls his boxer briefs back up over his length, and grips me under the arms, lifting me to my feet like I weigh nothing.
He grips the back of my neck with one hand, and dips down, pulling me in for a swift, but tender kiss.
When he pulls back, he pecks me on the jaw, then beneath the ear, before straightening, and righting my dress for me.
He walks over to the paper towel dispenser and grabs a handful, before wetting them in the sink and returning to me.
Kneeling before me, he begins to softly wipe at my knees. He’s thorough, making sure to clean from my lower thigh, down to my shins.
The unfiltered affection he’s showing is killing me in the best way.
I never considered myself touch starved, but now I’m thinking I might’ve been.
The way he touches me and holds me, makes me feel something I can’t really put into words.
He finally stands, and tosses the dirty towels in the trash.
When he returns to my side, he gently strokes my arms and face, like he can’t get enough.
It’s quiet for a beat, then I breathe out, “Woah.”
Wesley tips his head back and laughs a full hearted laugh. When he lifts his head, he looks at me and dips his chin once in agreement, smiling so broadly, his dimples make an appearance.
“Woah,” he agrees.