Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Rafe holds my chin in his big hand, stroking his thumb possessively along my jaw, then asking, “Do you like the idea that someone might see you on your knees?”
I shudder out a breath. “I do.”
“With me fucking your mouth?” he continues.
God, yes. Heat rushes downward and coils in my stomach. “Yes.”
He leans in, his lips this close to my face, but not touching. “I knew the night I met you that you like to be watched.” It’s like he can read my fantasies before I even understand them. As if he can figure them out, so he can give them to me.
“And you like watching me,” I counter, certain it’s true.
“I do, Gunnar. Because the risk turns you on.”
“So much,” I murmur, my fever for him burning higher.
He grins wickedly, but his eyes are unflinching. “Here’s your present, then. Unwrap my cock and suck me off. Show me how much you want to take it to the back of your throat.”
I shiver at the command, then undo the top button on his pants, stealing a hand just inside and teasing his happy trail. “Did you watch me play from here?”
Rafe points to the window, overlooking the field. “I did.” He turns his gaze back to me, tossing me a lascivious look. “But maybe I borrowed this suite for this exact moment.”
“When I hit that double were you thinking about me begging to suck your dick when the game ended?”
He breathes out hard. Feral. “Yes. And when you scored a run, I thought about how much you’d want to pleasure me.”
I shake from lust. “Please let me suck you off.”
“Show me how much you want to,” he says. Then he unzips his pants and takes out his cock.
Long, thick, pulsing.
My mouth waters. “I do want to.”
He looks from me to the floor. “Get on your knees so I can fuck your throat.”
I don’t back away from ninety-eight-miles-per-hour fastballs. I am damned well not going to back away from my first taste of cock.
I drop to my knees and lick the head, tasting that first delicious hit of liquid arousal.
Oh fuck, that’s good.
Rafe groans in appreciation as he fists my hair, tugging me close. “Yes . . . I knew your mouth would be fantastic.”
I savor the compliment and the rough grip of his fingers. It makes me feel used in the best of ways.
Rafe reads me like an open book of dirty poems and tugs me closer still. “I bet you’d like more of me, wouldn’t you, Gunnar?”
I nod against his flesh, letting his shaft slide down my throat.
That’s more challenging, especially when the bossy fucker tugs on my hair. “Bet you’d like all of me,” he urges.
God, I would, I know it. But I also don’t know if I can deep throat on the first try. I don’t want to let on that I’m so new, or he might stop or freak out.
Improvising, I drop him from my mouth. “You taste so fucking good. Can I just lick you for a bit? It gets me so hard,” I say, squeezing my dick for emphasis.
“Yes. Tease me, Gunnar. But make it good,” he demands.
I swirl my tongue over the head and suck him the way I like blow jobs, tightening my grip on him as I stroke faster.
“Yessss.” He tosses his head back as he curls his hands around my skull. “You fucking tease.”
I smile around his cock and push myself to take him a little deeper, suck a bit harder. My cock is leaking in my jeans, and I love it. Pleasure tears through me, electrifying my cells as I swallow more of his shaft.
I doubt there’s any finesse to my blow job, but I hope what I lack in skills, I make up for in enthusiasm.
“Yes, tease me more with that wicked tongue,” he instructs, losing his hold on cool and commanding.
I flick my tongue along his shaft as I suck, eliciting dirty groans. “You’re so good at sucking my cock,” he murmurs.
That’s a shock. I didn’t expect to be praiseworthy—just to get the job done. But I’ve never wanted someone the way I want Rafe.
I put all that fervor into the blow job. I go for it. I move my hand off the base, cup his balls, and I swallow him.
I gag, choking softly.
He loosens his grip on my hair, speaks gently. “Want me to stop?”
I love that he asks, but I don’t need an out. I shake my head, resume the pace.
My mind is hazy and a wild electric charge sizzles over my skin. He again ropes his fingers through my hair, tugging me deeper onto his cock, knowing my desire and giving it to me. I moan against his steel shaft.
He trembles, his tight-knit control unraveling.
“Yes. Do that. Just like that,” he rasps out, bordering on desperate.