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What is this man doing to me?

He laughs and I glance down, our gazes connecting. He’s lying on his stomach, elbows propped, face right between my legs. We watch each other silently, my breath stalling in my throat when he lowers his head, his gaze still never leaving mine as he slowly licks me. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, my chest tight as I continue to hold my breath, still watching him as he laps at my flesh like I’m an ice-cold popsicle on a steaming hot day.

It’s too much, watching him and feeling what he’s doing to me at the same time. I swear I’m getting lightheaded, and I realize it’s because I’m still holding my breath.

Exhaling loudly, I lean my head back and close my eyes.

He stops what he’s doing. Doesn’t say a word, doesn’t touch me, just…stops.

“What’s wrong?” I breathe.

“You need to watch me.” His voice is deep and dark, the words like a command.

“I don’t know if I can stand it,” I admit, my eyes still closed.

“You won’t get what you want if you don’t watch,” he says.

My eyes pop open and I lift my head, our gazes meeting once again. His lips are shiny, his eyes dark, his hair a mess, and all I can think about is, how fast can he put his mouth and tongue back on me?

“Don’t look away,” he whispers as he ducks his head once more, his tongue flickering against my clit.

It’s much more intense, watching a man go down on you. Most of my encounters with this particular activity are done in the dark. My first boyfriend had become quite excellent at it because it was all he wanted to do, and I was a willing participant. The other occasions with men going down on me had mostly been a disappointment. They never managed to find the right parts to focus on, and I was too chicken to direct them where they needed to be.

That was my own fault, and it’s a problem I still have now. I’m not the most vocal or demanding in bed. After a while, I figured I’d become spoiled by my first, overeager boyfriend. No one was as good as Colin. That boy gave me multiple orgasms.

Multiple.

But Colin has met his match, and his name is Cannon. The man knows exactly where to zero in on, and my entire body is singing with the potential to orgasm at any given moment. I’m trying my best to think of other things just to draw this moment out. Like how I need to do my washing and give my tiny place a good dusting.

All thoughts of cleaning my flat are gone. All I can focus on is the intense sensations that are slowly taking me over. He keeps flicking his tongue, though, increasing the speed, his fingers sliding back inside my body, back and forth. In and out. I’m shaking. He presses his tongue flat against my clit, does this unusual pulsing thing that I’ve never felt in my life, and then I’m shouting.

Shouting.

And coming. Oh God, I’m coming and coming, my entire body convulsing as if I have no control over it, and Cannon is gripping my hip in one hand, two fingers from his other hand curled deep inside my body, touching some magical place that makes me convulse even harder.

It’s so overwhelming, I’m seeing spots. Like I might actually black out from an orgasm.

Who knew?

Seconds later—possibly minutes, maybe even hours—Cannon slides his body up so he’s lying beside me, his heavy arm flung across my stomach, his mouth seeking mine. I let him kiss me, so exhausted I can barely move. I taste myself on his lips, on his tongue, and it’s strangely arousing.

So of course I do manage to kiss him back and then he’s slapping his hand all over the mattress, searching for the forgotten condom, and I find it first, placing it in his hand without a word. No words are needed, we know what we want. He rises up on his knees, his erection jutting out toward me, the tip glistening with a single drop of creamy liquid, and unable to stop myself, I lean up and flick my tongue across the head of his cock.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, his expression telling me I’ve just blown his mind. I’ll blow him more if he lets me. “Do that again.”

I do it again, rising up on my elbows and opening my mouth, letting him slip his erection between my lips. I suck and lick just the head, my gaze lifting to meet his as he watches me with complete and utter fascination.

Again, I’m not big on the blowjob thing. I gave Colin plenty of them because I wanted to return the favor and we were both young and experimental and ready to do it all. Of. The. Time. There is nothing more exhilarating as young love. First love.

This, though, is completely intoxicating. He’s watching me, and I’m watching him, and his long, thick cock is in my mouth, and I’m…loving it. Oral sex on the first date is not my thing, but I get the sense that this entire night isn’t going the way it usually does.

And I’m okay with it.

“We gotta stop.” He pulls his erection from my mouth, his expression, his voice full of agonizing torture. “I can’t do this.”

I’m disappointed he’s gone. “Why not?”

“I won’t come in your mouth.”


Tags: Monica Murphy Forever Yours Romance