“Take out my cock.”
She obeys, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my rock-hard shaft. Christ, even the gentle brushes of her fingers feel like delicious electric shocks.
“Good. You may no longer use your hands.” I gather her hair into one fist and guide her lips to the tip of my cock. “Open.”
Erin closes her eyes and opens her lips, and the first touch of her tongue on my skin is what I imagine heaven will be like. It’s hard not to thrust deep and fast when all I want is to feel more of this warm perfection. But I hold myself back, keeping my thrusts into her mouth even and measured, if a little deeper every time.
By the time I’m reaching the back of her mouth, her lips are stretched around my shaft, and she’s gazing up at me with those pretty blue eyes. I could probably come right now. I’m not going to. She’s given me free rein to enjoy this, and damn, I’m going to.
I keep my cock in her mouth, tightening my fingers. “Can you deep throat?”
Her eyes go wide, and there’s a combination of shrugging shoulders and a small shake of her head that tells me she doesn’t know. “You’re going to find out.” There’s no way I’m not going to be the first man who fucks her there.
She said she was with just one other person before me. A boy, she'd said, and I think what an idiot he was to not know the treasure he'd had at his fingertips. His loss is my gain.
Pulling her back so she can breathe, I wait until she catches her breath before I fit myself to her lips again and drive home. I use my hands to find that perfect angle to slip past her mouth and deeper. Everything tightens around the head of my cock and holy fuck that feels so good.
More. I need more of that. I push deeper and feel Erin’s throat jerk around me. Not all the way in, but close, and I pull back. She takes a deep breath that makes her breasts heave, and I want to fuck those too. There’s nothing that I don’t want about her.
“Oh my God,” she says with a small grin. “I’ve never done that.”
“You’ll do it again,” I say, pushing into her mouth again.
This time she’s eager, diving back down my shaft faster than I was going to guide her, and when I’m firmly seated in her throat, I begin to fuck. I hold her head in place and drive my hips deeper. Deeper. Until her lips are sealed around the base of my cock like they belong there.
And they do.
Jesus.
I close my eyes and revel in the impossible sensation of having my entire dick encased in warm mouth and throat, every tiny thrust sending zinging pleasure back through my balls and up my spine.
She breathes again, and I take her again. All this time it’s been amazing. But careful. Slow. I want it to be harder and faster. Messier. There isn’t anything that I love more than a woman with makeup running down her face because I was fucking her.
That’s what I do. I barely let her breathe because pleasure is building at the base of my spine and oh fuck. Driving deep into her mouth, I come, spilling everything I have straight down her throat.
Erin hauls in a breath when I let her go, and she’s messy. Just the way that I like it. And the smile on her face. God. I need to stop my thoughts before they go down a road that’s thinking that this is more than temporary.
“That was fun.”
I smirk. “I’m glad. Because you’re excellent at it.”
The air goes taut between us, that overwhelming magnetic feeling that I haven’t felt in ages, and never this strongly. “Go write the chapters, and I’ll be in to see you before we leave for dinner.”
“What time?”
“Dinner’s at seven.”
There was clear hunger in her eyes when she walked away. But I doubted that it had anything to do with food.
* * *
I knock on the door to the small office at six-fifteen and find her still typing. “How’s it going?”
“Almost finished,” she says.
Her fingers fly over the keyboard, and then she taps the period key emphatically. “There. Ready.”
“You need your reward first.”
Erin stands and comes over to me, almost pressing herself up against my body. “I’m starving. Can we come back after?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Yes, we can.”
The whole afternoon I thought she’d be begging for an orgasm by now, but maybe Erin is even kinkier than I thought, if she’s denying herself.
Dinner is at a tiny hole in the wall Italian restaurant. I’m one of the few authors who would attract attention from paparazzi, and I don’t want Erin and me in the papers together. Not because I’m trying to hide her, though I’m not ignorant. The sight of me with my graying temples and her looking like a teen pop star would cause a stir. No, this is about the fact there are only a few weeks to go until the book’s due date. I can’t afford any speculation about whether I'll finish it in time or who Erin is, if she's helping me.