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I’m praying at his temple. Tasting what is mine.
“I need to change.”
“You okay in there?” Javi calls out from the other room and I squeak, the embarrassing sound bringing me back to the situation at hand. Wearing this shirt isn’t a smart choice. It’s disastrous for my common sense, and I walk out sans phone.
“Be right back.” My answer comes out high-pitched while walking toward my room. The plan is to lose the shirt and get myself together before further embarrassing myself.
And I make it inside without issue. I begin undoing the buttons and notice his lack of response, but it’s as I get to the last button that two hands come up from behind and stop me, a deep rumble leaving his chest in displeasure.
“No.” His face appears next to mine a second later, his cheek rubbing against mine. “Don’t take it off.”
“But I can’t think straight.” It leaves me before I can stop it, and I’m embarrassed. This isn’t who I am, but with him, my defenses are nonexistent—an afterthought.
“I don’t want you to think straight.” Javi’s hands leave mine and he begins to put each button back through a hole, lingering a little longer when he reaches the one between my exposed breasts. “Lord knows I’m unstable in your presence. Completely fucked by a slip of a girl that threatens daily to shoot me while the mere image makes me hard as fuck.”
A harsh shiver rocks me, his nose skimming the length of my neck, causing goose bumps to rise across my flesh. I know I’m supposed to be looking at the video, talking about the discrepancies found in the twins’ file and the possibility of who their donor could be, but when his lips follow the path back up to my jaw and he nips the skin, I lose composure.
That tiny spark of pleasurable pain makes me the aggressor. I’m the one who’s salivating for a taste.
With his shirt on and a bold little grin, I turn around and drop to my knees. His eyes turn nearly black—dilated and hungry—as he watches me undo two of the buttons he closed.
My mouth waters as the bulge in his pants expands, twitches beneath my gaze. That’s the only part of him that moves; he’s stone still as I open his pants and lower the zipper, the angry, purple head greeting me while a drop of pre-come slips down the thick shaft.
“Hands behind your back and don’t move,” I breathe out, voice just above a whisper as I sweep a finger across the deep V, following the sharp indent from right to left and then back again.
“Muñeca,” he groans, the pain in his voice causing my eyes to snap up to his. Christ, he’s beautiful and masculine and complying with my wishes without a single complaint. Instead, his eyes are reverent. Hold so much affection. “Baby, I can’t promise to give you full control, but I’ll try. For as long as I can, I’ll do what you ask.”
***
15
MY RESPONSE IS a small kiss on his right hip and then left, traversing the skin with the tip of my tongue before going lower. There, I leave an open-mouthed kiss at the base of his cock and another up the length, laving the tight skin until my parted lips caress the engorged head.
The bead at the slit glides across my lips and I can’t stop myself from licking his essence, getting my first taste, and I hum. He’s salty-sweet with a hint of earth, igniting my hunger in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“Don’t. Move.” The unrestrained yearning in my voice makes him shiver, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t grab me when I take the first two inches into my mouth and let his weight settle on my tongue.
He’s silky smooth, angry veins desperate for my touch. He’s tense muscles and gritted teeth, watching me behind dilated eyes as a rumble builds in his chest.
I feel vibrations straight down to my core.
I’m wet and throbbing and my lack of underwear—the cool air in the room over my slick thighs gives away my desire to do this.
I need to taste him.
To have him lose control and take. To let him fuck my mouth.
Another inch and his thighs tense, the pants sitting just below his ass stretching, and I rake the blunt of my nails down his skin, pulling them down to his feet as my mouth takes him in deeper. I don’t pull off to catch a breath or to tease her with a little teeth; instead, I slowly take him down to the back of my throat and swallow, not pausing until my nose touches the base.
“Fuck.” Javi hisses, eyes on mine as I touch the edge of his balls with the tip of my tongue. Spit rolls down his shaft and sack. It pools on the floor right in front of his shoes and I hollow my cheeks, pulling back slowly until the only thing that connects us is a string of spit. “God, you’re perfect. Made for me.”
Large hands twitch and I raise a brow, blowing a little on the bulbous tip. “I said don’t move.”
“You have five minutes, sweet girl.” The deep vibration of his voice carries throughout the room, and I feel a rush of wetness coat my lips at the threat in his words. He excites me. “Four and a half.”
Swiping a finger across the slit at the tip, I bring it to my mouth and hum. “Can you make it that long, Javi?”
“Do your worst.”
