"You're going to have to learn better. You remember what to do?"
She nods. She knows exactly what he wants. And she knows that she's going to give it to him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
There are only three sensations that a man can feel through his cock. Only three that feel good, anyway. And those three are more than enough for any of them. Wet, hot, tight.
Philip's eyes are closed when her mouth wraps around him, because he already knows what's coming, practically already feels the relief that she'll bring his arousal.
His hands move to her head, not quite guiding her. He keeps his hips still as best he can. It's not time for that sort of thing, not just yet. He'll take what he wants, but he'll wait until he can maximize it for himself.
A fire burns inside him, a need that only gets worse as her mouth bobs along his length. Her tongue is moving along with her mouth, testing the bottom-side of his cock.
Callahan's breathing is coming in hard, raspy breaths, his body already beginning to feel the strain of simply holding itself back.
And then he isn't holding himself back any more. He pulls her off.
"Is everything—"
"Turn around, bend over," he says. She does as she's told, on her hands and knees in the dirt. His cock lines up with her entrance easily, readily, as if it were finding its home.
He presses in a little bit. He doesn't encounter any resistance; even still, he pushes in slowly. His manhood stiffens even as it rests inside her, so erect that it hurts.
He pulls back and enters her again, his hips finding the perfect groove that takes him out as far as he can go before driving himself home. He settles into that rhythm, pushing himself deep into her before withdrawing slowly.
His orgasm, threatening to overtake him in her mouth, takes a step back, and he takes a step forward to chase it, his thrusts coming harder and faster, motivated by need.
He grasps her body, any way he can ge
t a better hand-hold to take his pleasure from her. Her shoulders do nicely, and he grasps them and uses them to push himself to move faster still, harder still. To rip what he needs away from her, even as he can hear her breaths turn to soft moans.
She tightens down on him, and yet still he doesn't slow. His hips move harder. Faster. His body is beginning to tire, but his need only burns hotter. His fingers grip hard into her shoulder. No doubt they'll leave bruises, but the girl below him isn't complaining.
Her soft moans have grown harder, have grown more throaty with need. If she still remembers that they're outside, the information isn't stopping her.
"Fuck," he says—his voice sounds hoarse, from the heady combination of sexual arousal and his rapidly approaching orgasm. "I'm gonna—"
"Cum in my mouth," she says. The words hit somewhere deep inside him, an instinct that he can't suppress any longer.
He pushes himself into her warmth once, twice more, and then withdraws, scrambling across her body to enter her waiting, open mouth. His fingers dig into her hair. It's not the time for reservedness, not now.
His hips press out an erratic rhythm, trying to press his cock as deep into her mouth as either of them will let it go.
His fingers tighten, her hair caught up in his hands, starting to pull. And then he feels the release rip through him, drawing out a hoarse, triumphant shout as he shoots his cum into her waiting mouth.
A moment later he regains his senses. Morgan Lowe, one of the richest women in the country, is kneeling in the dirt in front of him; her clothes are in disarray, her hair a mess. She's got a vacant sort of expression, and a dull smile on her face that she likely doesn't even realize that she's showing.
"You look good," he says, and he means it.
"That was exactly what I needed," she says. She sits back and starts to take her feet again. Her clothes slip easily back into place. A hand run through her hair doesn't do nearly as well getting her hair back into place, but they're not planning on going back out.
"I'm glad you liked it. If you don't have somewhere to be, I've got a movie set up in the living room."
She's still got that vacant, well-fucked expression, as if the world is far too complicated with her brain so scrambled. But she smiles a little more, and leans into his body as he wraps an arm around her shoulder.
"I think I'd like that, too."
He leans down to kiss her forehead.