“Ana, suck me.” I panted, remembering her words from last night. “Suck my cock.” I knew she wanted to do it. And now she knelt before me exactly as I’d fantasized, her wide eyes looking up at me, her hands wrapped around my length.
She swallowed and parted her lips, then took in my tip. Slowly, tentatively. I groaned and made myself ball my fingers into fists instead of grab her hair and force her down on my shaft, hard. I wanted to feel her mouth around me, wanted to fuck her face, hard, but right now we had to go slow. I didn’t know if she’d like it, giving me that kind of power, surrendering and serving me. I thought she might, but right now I held back and let her have control, going slow.
She licked me like a delicious ice cream cone, swirling her tongue along my length, savoring every inch. She cupped the root of my shaft in her hands, pumping me, and I didn’t know how much more of it I was going to be able to take. Just the sight of her, her plump lips parted, at my feet. Then she took more of me into her wet, sucking mouth and she moaned.
“Oh, yeah,” I exhaled, panting, my balls already tight with come. “Suck like that, baby.”
She drew me closer, a hand to my ass, and took me in deeper, moaning like she loved it. She sucked me in, more and more, and I pushed against the wall to hold myself back. I’d let her drive this time, let her show me how much she could take, even if it killed me. She sucked and swirled her tongue around my length, widening her throat and taking in more. I was a big man with a long, full cock. I knew it was a lot to handle and she’d said she didn’t have experience. But then all thought was driven from my mind as she sucked me in all the way to the hilt.
“Fuck!” I called out, tilting my head back and closing my eyes, lost in the sensation as she sucked me hard. Her hands clutched my hips, holding me tight so she could pump me down her throat. So tight, so wet, the way she devoured me, I was already so close to coming.
She pulled off of me. “You taste so good!” she exclaimed, looking up at me astonished. I looked down at her, wondering if she was trying to kill me. My cock jerked, throbbing and pounding, more precome rushing to my tip.
Attention back down to my huge shaft, she stroked its length with her hands, licking her lips. “Ash,” she said, still sounding shy but dirty as hell. “When you come, come down my throat. I want to swallow all of it.”
“Oh God.” I didn’t even know my name anymore as she took me back into her hot little mouth, sucking me down full and long. Of all the sexy, nasty things any girl had ever said to me, nothing had ever hit me like that before. A fucking bullseye.
She moaned again, taking me all the way down her throat, pumping my length. I wound my hand in her hair, looking down into her eyes as she gazed up at me with adoration.
“I’m going to come,” I grit out, harsh and needy. “Are you going to suck it down, Ana?”
She whimpered, deep and throaty, and sucked me so hard I nearly blacked out. Come shot out of me, thrusting, pumping down her throat, rocketing out of me full blast and she kept sucking, swallowing, taking all of me in. My head thrown back, words tumbled out of my mouth, I had no idea what, swearing, calling out her name. It felt like I kept coming and coming, unloading into her sweet, sucking mouth, and she kept licking and loving me until the very last drop.
“Uh!” I tilted my head forward, managing to open my eyes and feast down on the sight of her kneeling before me. She licked her way off of my length, then dropped back onto her heels, a satisfied smile on her gorgeous lips. She smiled up at me, proud and thrilled, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“I’m going to want to do that again,” she declared.
Yup, that decided it. She was trying to kill me. And she was doing a great job.
CHAPTER 9
Ana
Ash tasted so good. Who knew going down on a man could feel so amazing? I’d experimented a few times with my ex-boyfriend, Stan. Awkward, brief, he’d certainly enjoyed himself but I never had. And he’d never come down my throat. I’d never wanted him to, never let him.
But with Ash? I wanted to drink him down like a luscious dessert. The look of him standing there huge and strong in the shower? All muscle and tattoos, I swear, no wonder he had the entire world at his feet. Seeing him there, so powerful, so masculine and sexy, I’d dropped right to his feet. I’d felt a pull I never had before, a deep throb between my legs, an intense desire to take him into my mouth and suck his cock.
“You’re amazing, Ana.” He held me to him in the shower, after pulling me up from my knees. He rubbed my back, making lazy circles with his hands.
“Mmmm.” I dropped my head to his broad chest, my hand caressing his muscles as if trying to memorize every inch. I still felt like I was on fire, raring and ready to go. Honestly, going down on him had turned me on so much I’d come close to orgasm, myself. The feel of him shooting his come down my throat, the harsh, guttural noises he’d made, the way he’d lost himself in blinding pleasure? Yeah, that had been a turn on and my pussy still throbbed from it.
But he’d just come so he’d probably want to go to sleep. That had been my prior experience, anyway. An orgasm had been like the opposite of an alarm clock with Stan. Within minutes of his final thrust he’d pass out cold, dead to the world. It helped that he slept so soundly. He never once woke up while I masturbated next to him, bringing myself the satisfaction that he never could.
But Ash’s shaft still stood out huge and hard, pressing into my stomach. What a cock. Seriously. I knew I didn’t have a lot to go on. I hadn’t exactly assembled a full police line-up of cocks to compare it to in my prior experience. But he seemed huge, massive, like a fucking jackhammer, wide and driving and hard as hell. Could he be ready to go again already?
“Let me love you, Ana,” he murmured, bending down and kissing my throat. He massaged my breast, cupping me in his hand, the pulsing swirl of water making my skin slick and slippery. I arched into his touch, wanting more.
He turned off the showerhead and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me.
“I’ve made a fire.” He nodded his head toward the main room of our hotel suite. “Let me show you.”
He swept me up into his powerful arms. Had we not been in Paris, had I not been so aroused and falling for him so fast and hard, it might have felt like too much. Over the top, carrying me to the fire, laying me down before it gently, on a soft rug.
As it was, I loved every second of it.
“You’re really good at making a fire.” I admired his work in the fireplace. He’d also started one inside of me, and it raged even brighter.
“I was never even a boy scout,” he said, bringing a hand up to the top of my towel.
“No, you’re no boy scout.” My breath hitched as he trailed his finger along the edge of my towel. The one he’d just put on me. The one he was going to take off.
I knew what would happen next. Just the two of us in a hotel room in Paris. Last night I’d passed out like someone had drugged me. But tonight, I was wide awake and panting with need.
I’d had a lot of reasons to object over the past couple of weeks. That no-sex clause we’d signed, but even more importantly the notion that I needed to keep this all-business. Make sure my heart didn’t get attached.
As if that were actually an option. I was all in, whether I liked it or not. And right now, I liked it. A lot. There was a time to stand on the sidelines and play it safe. And there was a time to hop up onto the back of the bad boy’s motorcycle, wrap your legs around him and go for a ride. Now was that kind of time.
I reached my hand up into Ash’s thick, jet-black hair, pulling his lips to mine.
“I want you, Ana.” He kissed me, his tongue exploring my depths, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
“I want you too.” I wanted him so badly. But a tiny glint of insecurity flashed at the corner of my brain. I’d only slept with one man, and we hadn’t exactly burned down the house together. I didn’t really know what I was doing when it came to sex. But Ash? He wasn’t an international
sex symbol for nothing.
In a quiet voice, I admitted, “Ash, I’m not exactly experienced.”
His motions stilled and he looked into my eyes. “Have you never…?”
“Oh, I have had sex before. But only with my ex-boyfriend.”
Ash growled. “Can I rip his lungs out?”
“I don’t think you need to feel jealous about what we—”
“Did he ever get to touch you?” he interrupted me with a ferocious gleam in his eyes, all predator.
“Well, yes.” Minimally, inspiring little to no response.
“Then I want to rip his lungs out. You’re mine.” He sank down with a deep exhale, as if he’d been holding himself back. He ripped my towel off of me, baring me completely on the rug. In the firelight, he ran his hands over my body, caressing, kneading, stroking. Every inch came alive, singing to his touch, tingling and responding until I was moaning with need, clutching at him.