6. Melanie #2
My confidence leveling out, I test my hold on him, stroking my fingers over the denim. I look up at him through my lashes, taking in his taut jaw and the perspiration dotting his upper lip. His eyes are fixed on mine, the intensity of his stare settling like a pulse between my legs.
I moisten my lips, and he tracks the movement without blinking. “I want to taste you,” I whisper. “Can I?”
“You’re asking to put your mouth on me?” he asks, barking out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not something I’m ever going to say no to.”
He comes forward as I sit up, inching to the edge of the bed.
His legs spread on either side of mine as I flick open the button of his jeans, the rasp of his zipper filling the room as I drag it down.
I must be moving too slow for him, because he bats my hands away, shoving the denim and his black boxers over his hips until his erection is freed, jutting up proudly from a thatch of dark hair.
One hand grips the base of his shaft, and he jacks himself slowly. “You want this?”
His cock is thick and long, covered in veins that I want to trace with my tongue.
There’s moisture beading at the tip, and without thinking, I lean forward to swipe my tongue through the slit, gathering it up on my tongue.
He lets out a startled shout, his head falling back.
His free hand lands on the back of my head—not pushing me down, but almost as if he needs to hold himself steady.
It’s heady, having that kind of power over him. It emboldens me, especially when he mutters, “Please,” above me.
“Begging already?” I taunt, replacing his hand with my own fist, pumping him up and down slowly.
He tips his chin down, mouth parted and eyes glazed, watching as I gather spit in my mouth. I lean forward, angling his cock toward me and letting my saliva drip onto the head, using my hand to spread it around, lubing him up as he mumbles out a curse.
“Don’t want to miss this.” He uses both hands to gather my hair into a loose pony, holding it out of the way as I lean forward, his cock slipping past my lips. He tastes slightly bitter, musky, but nothing that could ever make me want to pull away.
I hollow my cheeks as I suck on him, looking up to see the way his face flushes red, his jaw clenched.
I drop my hand away, reaching under him to fondle his balls, the sensitive spot behind them.
A breath hisses out from between his teeth, and then he’s pulling my head down just as he thrusts forward, roughly filling me until the crown of his cock brushes the back of my throat.
I gag, my throat convulsing around him, and he moans loudly.
He pulls back, leaving just the head resting on my tongue, letting me gather my breath. One hand comes to my face, swiping away a tear that escaped my eye.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Been thinking about this mouth for too long.” That makes me blink up at him, but he distracts me with several shallow thrusts, his hands cradling my head.
I explore him with my tongue, letting him feel the graze of my teeth. He yanks away from me with a groan.
I catch my breath as he kicks off his pants, pulling open his bedside drawer and coming out with a foil packet.
Cale throws it on the bed beside me, and then he’s prowling closer.
I scramble backward until I’m in the middle of the bed.
He doesn’t stop, planting his knees on the mattress and grabbing my ankles in each hand.
He spreads my legs wide, planting my feet firmly on the bed, one brow rising in a silent order not to move.
The position leaves me wide open, and he doesn’t miss a thing, eyeing the slick moisture coating my lower lips.
Cale’s mouth curls into a devilish smile, and then he’s diving forward, not giving me any kind of warning before his lips are suctioning around my clit in tight pulls.
I press my feet into the bed, back arching as one of his hands slides up my body, gripping my breast, pinching at my tightly beaded nipple.
He flattens his tongue, swiping it in rough circles around my swollen clit, and then he’s dragging it lower, thrusting it inside me, fucking me with it.
Cale moves back to my clit, but a finger is pressing against my entrance, pushing inside me slowly.
He pulses it in and out, testing me, before a second finger joins, and he speeds up, getting a little rougher.
“You’re tight,” he hums, the vibration of his voice making me gasp.
“Been a while,” I manage to get out, and his head lifts, even as his hand never stops moving.
“How long?” he demands, brows low.
I push up on my elbows, glaring at him. “Do we really need to talk about this now?”
His arm stills, fingers pressed deep and motionless. “Tell me, darlin’,” he coaxes, ignoring me when my hips jerk against him, trying to force him into action. “How long has it been, baby?”
“I don’t know,” I cry out, frustration mounting. “Since he left.”
“Oh, baby.” He coos sympathetically. “You do need it, don’t you?”
I legitimately growl, making him laugh, but then his mouth is back on me, his fingers sawing in and out of me. I writhe against him, a dry sob escaping me as pleasure coils tightly in my belly.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he curls his fingers inside me, grazing against that sensitive spot on my inner walls, sucking hard on my clit at the same time.
Euphoria washes over me, making my vision white out.
I slap a hand over my mouth, muffling the cry, a distant part of me aware that I can’t wake Oakley.
My hips are still grinding down on Cale’s face as he uses his tongue to draw the orgasm out.
He pulls back, his mouth glistening with my arousal. The flush in my face deepens as he wipes a hand over his jaw. His lips tip into a grin, and another pulse shoots low through my body.
“One down,” he murmurs. “You done, baby? Or do you want more?”