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Her eyes are heavy lidded, and her lips are red like she’s been biting them. “Please, Jaxon.”
“Tell me what you want.” My voice is rough and my cock is so hard it pops the button of my pants.
She doesn’t hesitate. “I want you to make me come with your mouth and your fingers. Please Jaxon.”
She’s so open and willing to tell me what she wants. “Keep talking. Tell me what you like and how it feels. I want to hear it all while I lick this sweet pussy.”
She shudders under me. “I like the way you talk.”
I pull her legs up over my shoulders and take my time exploring, letting her lead the way.
“Oh, yes,” she says. “Just like that. It feels like sparkly candy for my clit. Keep doing that.”
I keep doing that and she keeps talking, right up until she’s screaming my name. My actual name.
Not until she’s begging do I stop. Her orgasm feels like my own. My dick wouldn’t agree, but the joy I feel at giving her pleasure is a very close second to my own.
I take a moment to enjoy the view of her, naked on my couch, her eyelids fluttering, her lips turned up in a slight, sated smile.
“Was that good?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from her.
“It was better than a mug coming out perfect on the first attempt. It was a kiln that doesn’t break anything. It was lightning in a bottle.”
I pull off my shirt and enjoy the way her eyes flare as she takes me in. “I don’t know. You’re capable of saying an awful lot for someone who’s truly just had her world rocked.”
Her smile blossoms. “Guess you’re just going to have to try harder to bliss me out to the point of speechlessness.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Honey
I’m still bathed in the afterglow of the amazing experience Jaxon gave me, sleepy and sated, when he pulls off his shirt. His lean, muscled body, with just a few small tattoos on his ribs and pecs, is a work of art. As he lowers his long-fingered hands to his waistband and pushes down his jeans, my body begins to wake up and yearn again.
I sit up, allowing him to fill my vision, the scent of my arousal and his cologne surrounding me. With him, there is only pleasure and safety.
He slides down his boxer briefs. I think he toes out of his tennis shoes and kicks them to the side, but all I can see is that thick, hard cock.
Before he can make his next move, I’m on my knees, my lips pressed to the firm tip.
I lick him from balls to tip and he groans deep in his throat.
I lift my head and look at him, loving his desire drunken, half-lidded expression. “That’s right. Tell me how it feels. Talk to me.”
He smirks. “Keep it up and I’m going to blow before I’m inside you. Is that what you want?”
“Seems to me like we’ve got all afternoon. Unless you’ve got somewhere you need to be?”
Before he can answer, I open my mouth and take him in, sliding down until he hits the back of my throat. It’s not my favorite sensation, but I’ve been blessed with an excellent gag reflex and see no reason not to use it when I can.
His long slow, “fuuuuck” makes it worth the discomfort.
I slide up and down, gently petting his balls, ready to continue until he loses all control.
He grabs my arms and pulls me off his dick. “Nope. I’m going to be inside you. I’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”
“Weeks?” I raise my eyebrows as he sits on the couch and settles me, straddled, on his lap. “We only met two weeks ago.” I tilt my head to the side in mock confusion.
“Two weeks is plural weeks.”
