Page 257 of Property of Whiskey

She takes me deeper.

My hips jerk once.

I immediately lock them down.

“Sorry.”

She pulls off.

“For what?”

“Moved.”

“I can handle you moving.”

“Woman.”

“Biker.”

Her mouth closes around me again.

This time when my hips move, she lets them.

Not much.

Enough.

Her tongue works the underside while her fist moves with her mouth, and I’m suddenly very fucking aware this room has no windows and one locked door and half the town is probably thirty feet away.

Should concern me.

Doesn’t.

My hand slides into her hair.

“Tell me if I pull too hard.”

She hums around my cock.

My knees nearly buckle.

“That was not an answer.”

Twila pulls back.

“I’ll tell you.”

Then she takes me deep enough to make my eyes close.

“Fuck.”

Her hand moves faster.

My balls draw tight.

Too close.

Way too fucking close.