He swells in my hand while he watches me, eyes bright and full lips parted. “Fucking hell, Angie. You’re so perfect I almost don’t care if it’s real.”
It hurts that he still doesn’t trust me, but I push it aside for now. I don’t trust him either, but I want this anyway. Licking my lips, I eye his cock with trepidation. I’m not even sure I can get my lips around it, but I’m going to try. I take him in, but just barely, stretching my jaw until it burns. Touching the underside with my tongue, I taste him for the first time. I explore his texture, sliding over his bumps and ridges. Somehow this feels dirtier than sex, even here in the shower.
He threads his hand through my hair and grips so tightly that it hurts a little. I look up with just my eyes and I’m a little scared by the intensity of his gaze. Then he pushes the back of my head, forcing me to take him deeper.
Oh God, I don’t know what I’m doing. He bumps into the back of my mouth, and I struggle to keep my gag reflex under control. I brace against his thighs, trying to control the depth and he doesn’t force the issue.
Instead, he uses his grip to teach me a rhythm, showing me how to move to make him feel good. For once, he’s not making crude comments or trying to get a rise out of me. He’s too busy moaning, the sound deep and sexy. His eyes are closed, so I can’t help slipping a hand down between my legs. I’m soaked, and it’s not from the shower.
His breathing comes faster, emphasized by sharp gasps. He thrusts, fucking my mouth while I tease him with my tongue. “Shit... I’m almost there, babe.” Looking down at me hotly, he makes me blush when I realize he’s watching me play with myself. His eyes are half-hooded with lust, and even his trademark smirk is gone as he tenses up.
I appreciate his warning, but if I’m going to do this, I’m doing it right. So instead of pulling off, I tighten my lips and swirl my tongue against him. Closing my eyes, I wait for it, not knowing exactly what to expect.
He lets out a deep groan and his thighs flex as he stiffens and swells. He comes hard, filling my mouth thickly before I swallow it down.
The shower wall rattles as he steadies himself, breathing heavily. I look up, and for the first time in the light of day, I see him without his mask on, his eyes closed and his face slack and vulnerable. When we had sex on our wedding night, it was too dark and I was too caught up in the moment to notice. I like it. It’s like seeing into parts of him that he normally hides away.
I’m not sure when the right point is to stop, so I keep sucking. He twitches and laughs softly, obviously sensitive and maybe a little ticklish. As he softens, I discover I can take more of him in, and I do, exploring him with my tongue and lips.
Eventually, he pulls away. “Fuck, too sensitive.”
I let him out with a soft pop before I look up, unable to keep the grin off my face. I did pretty well, I think, especially for my first time.
He laughs. “Feeling pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you.” Crouching, gets right up close. “You suck great cock, babe.”
“Don’t call me—”
He kisses me, deeply, putting a hand on the back of my head so I can’t get away. Doesn’t he care about... well, apparently not. I wrap my arms around his neck, and return his kiss for all I’m worth.
Chapter 31: Gavin
Well, fuck, that was unexpected. Far be it from me to not enjoy a spontaneous BJ, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pretty sure I’m not out of the shithouse yet. I can’t deny that our chemistry is real, but aside from my cock, what else is she after?
Even still, somehow I’ve ended up in bed with her head on my chest and my arm around her like we actually belong in the fucking bridal suite, and for once, I have no idea what to say. She sure feels good in my arms though.
She even smells good. I resist the urge to lean in and kiss the top of her head. Jesus. I never thought I’d end up like my father, but here I am pushing aside my pride because her mouth felt good around my cock and her hair smells nice. I blame the shower on adrenaline, but the cuddling?
Shit, now what?
“Nothing’s changed, has it?” Angie’s soft voice breaks the silence with a question that sounds more like a statement. Her soft breath brushes over my midsection while she traces the tattoo on my side with her finger. One of the first ones I got. A bunch of feathers wrapped in barbed wire. It seemed really fucking symbolic of... I can’t even remember.
I sigh and look up at the ceiling, wondering about the shitty paint job. “No.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Her finger trails higher, up towards my chest, following black ink while she talks.