CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #2
I’ve been so engrossed in loving him that I totally missed the fact that his body isn’t relaxed anymore.
His abs are flexing with every kiss I give him, and his thighs are taut now.
Oh, and the other part of his body is totally awake too.
But before I can check it out again, he threads his fingers through my hair before fisting them and pulling my head back.
My eyes clash with his green ones. They’re half sleepy but half alert, meaning he’s been awake for at least a few minutes.
Before I can say anything, he rumbles, “You still sore?”
And my heart blooms while my cheeks blush because I know what he’s asking in his sleep-roughened voice. “No.”
He doesn’t relax, though; if anything a light frown emerges between his brows. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Took you hard last night.”
My blush intensifies. “Not that hard.”
“Hard enough to make you bleed.”
“It was only a little blood.”
“Cleaned you up with my mouth, darlin’. I know how much blood there was, and it wasn’t a little.”
“I—”
“And then kept wakin’ you up with my mouth.” I press my thighs together as he continues, “It wasn’t my cock but fucked you enough times with my tongue that I know your tight little cunt got sore by the end of it. So again, you sure you’re okay?”
I look into his eyes for a few seconds as my body grows heated. Then, “Yes, I promise.”
Still, he searches my face until he’s satisfied.
Only then does his body relax again and his grip in my hair loosen.
Making me think he was really worried about this, about me, even in his sleep.
And for the millionth time, what was I thinking when I wanted to keep myself safe from him? Seriously. What. An. Idiot.
Biting my lip, I say, “Hi.”
Now that he’s relaxed, he moves his eyes and takes me in.
First my face, so close to him, almost touching his thigh, and then my body.
Leaned over him on my hands and knees. I give myself a couple of seconds to feel embarrassed about this.
I’m naked and I’m crouched over him like a slut.
I’ve never been naked in front of anyone, let alone in an obscene position like this.
But there’s no shame. Like there was none last night.
For some reason, it doesn’t even enter my mind.
It’s a simple fact of me being his, and him being mine.
When he’s done with his perusal, he comes back up, fully alert. “Hey.”
His low voice makes me squeeze my thighs again.
But my gasp is about something else. “This is the first time you’ve said that to me.
Hey.” His lips twitch and my heart flip-flops in my chest. “I also realize just now that bar is so low for me to be happy and excited about things. But whatever, I am happy.”
He watches me for a few seconds with heavy-lidded eyes. “You always talk this much first thing in the mornin’?”
I don’t remind him that he was the one asking all the questions before this and doing all the talking; I simply prop my chin on my hand and smile. “More.”
His lips twitch again.
My smile stays in place. “Did you sleep well?”
This time, his lip twitch is accompanied by a hum, telling me that yes, he did sleep well.
My heart blooms bigger in my chest and so does my smile.
It’s because I sang for him last night. It wasn’t preplanned; it was just something that happened when he took me in his arms after we were done.
Fucking me with his big cock I mean, not the other times when he woke me up with his mouth.
I was too blissed out after those times to do anything but go right back to sleep.
But after we had sex and he cleaned me up, he rolled me to my side and threw his arm over my waist, settling my back against his wide chest and tucking my ass into his hard lap.
He put his face in my hair then and breathed like he was the most relaxed he’d ever been in his life.
And it just came to me. To sing for him, softly and quietly.
I knew he liked it from the way he flexed his grip around me, tucking me further into himself.
Before his body went all heavy and hot, almost limp from my voice.
And maybe the bar is set too low for me because I was so happy, I could’ve wept.
But I didn’t because I had to sing. So I kept doing that until I fell asleep and he did too, I think.
And because giving him something soft and fragile to hold on to when all he’s had are hard things is a cause for celebration.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper, my throat going dry at the look he’s giving me.
“No?”
I shake my head. “No. You work too hard. I just…”
“Just what?”
“Wanted to watch you,” I confess.
“That didn’t look like watchin’.”
I shrug. “I got distracted.”
He lets his eyes rove over me before he mutters, “Know the feelin’.”
I blush again because I know his words, along with his stare, are a compliment. “And then I thought we should talk.”
“Talk.”
“Yes.” I nod, keeping my chin propped up on one hand and settling myself down, my belly on the bed, my legs straight back. “I have questions. But again…”
He watches my movements with dark eyes for a few silent beats, and I know he’s mostly staring at my ass before he prods, “Again, what?”
Blushing, I move my eyes over to his cock, which is still big and thick and holy God, dripping on his stomach. Licking my lips, I whisper, “I got distracted and I thought we should maybe talk later and—”
“Ask your questions,” he commands.
My heart is slamming in my chest, wanting to know what that liquid tastes like, the one that’s clear and dripping down the head of his cock, rather than ask my stupid questions. “You know what, it’s not—”
“You’ve got three seconds,” he warns, his fingers in my hair flexing and gripping me harder, the green in his eyes all dark and intense.
I know what he’s doing. He’s toying with me like the hunter he is, and like the prey I am, I let him. Swallowing thickly, I ask, “Um, h-how old are you?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I lose my breath. Because in response, he grips his length, his fingers long and thick, scarred, going around his cock and giving it a pull. Then, “Thirty-one.”
“Holy…” I breathe out as another drop of pre-cum oozes out and drips down, wetting his fingers this time.
“What, too old for a young thing like you?” he asks, giving his cock another pull.
I lick my lips again and shake my head, my eyes glued to his hand. “No, I… You’re… only t-twelve years older.”
Another tug of his cock and his abs flex. “Am aware.”
“I—”
“Would get a complex, but the way you keep starin’ at my cock like a cum-hungry slut, I know I do it for you,” he says, his voice mean and delicious, making me moan. “Not to mention, any time I look at you, your pussy gets so wet, I could smell you from miles away if I wanted to.”
“Radisson, I—”
“Next,” he calls out, fisting my hair.
I squirm, my thighs wet from my juices. “But I—”
He tsks, using my hair as a leash and shaking my head. “Be a good girl, yeah? Don’t make me come for that ass first thing in the mornin’.”
If he wants me to be a good girl, he shouldn’t talk about my ass like that. Or play with his cock the way he’s doing. But I know he wants to torture me because he gets off on it, and I let him because I get off on it too.
“Right.” I clear my throat and look back into his eyes that have gone darker. “What’s your… favorite color?”
“Pink.”
That gives me pause. “Your favorite color is pink?”
He nods. “The color of your cheeks. When I stare at you too hard and for too long.” I squirm again and he keeps going, “And the color of your cunt. Deep and dark. Rich. Especially after I’ve sucked it and made it come.”
“You—”
“Didn’t have a favorite color before you.” Then, “Next.”
It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings, and it doesn’t help that I notice another drop of pre-cum oozing out, wetting his fingers. “What’s your f-favorite food?”
“Think you know that one, given I ate it three times last night.”
My pussy clenches so hard, it feels like I’m coming. Then, “So what’s your second-favorite food?”
“Pancakes.”
“Seriously?”
“Could eat ’em all day, every day.”
“I can make pancakes,” I tell him excitedly because I can.
His lips twitch. “Next.”
“Will you teach me how to suck it?” I blurt out at last. Because honestly, I don’t remember my own name, let alone everything I wanted to ask. Plus, this seems like the most important question right now.
At this, his hand stops playing with his cock. “You want me to teach you how to suck my monster cock, Princess?”
“Okay,” I begin, my tone admonishing. “A very important rule: You’re not allowed to call yourself a monster in this bed. Or ever, for that matter. But for this, I’ll allow it. Because it is a monster but only because it’s massive.”
In response, his eyes go molten.
“And yes,” I go on. “Will you teach me?”
He studies my face for a moment before replying, “No.”
I frown. “Why not?”