At the very least, his cock would not fit into the circle of her fingers. She knew it wouldn’t, without checking—though Lord she wanted to give it a try. Most of her was stuck, stymied, just looking at this great big thing that he somehow carried between his legs at all times, but another part of her felt differently.
And this other part of her got bigger when he groaned her name.
“Evie,” he said, almost like a plea. And then he stroked just once over himself, the clasp of his hand unbearably tight on what had to be sensitive flesh, more slickness welling in the little slit at the tip when he did so.
It’s a lesson, her mind whispered. He’s giving you a tutorial on what he wants you to do.
Which at least made more sense than the things her mind usually came up with. But of course, the problem was—she couldn’t possibly do what he was doing. He went at it too fiercely, he applied too much pressure. She couldn’t even push the lever on a fire door successfully, never mind this.
Though as she watched him stroke—slow enough to keep him steady, hard enough to make him shudder—another option occurred. She could see a second bead of liquid, almost ready to run down his increasingly slippery shaft. And it looked so tempting just poised there, like another little hint he hadn’t intended to give.
One she could take, without too much fuss. She just leaned forward the moment he let his eyes slide closed, and touched the tip of her tongue to that little opening. Tasted the slick fluid there, in one smooth little stroke.
Then felt him jerk as though stabbed in the back with an axe.
His hand went almost automatically to the side of her head, but not to do either of the things she expected. He didn’t try to pull her away, or force her closer. He just clutched her there, fingers tangled deep in her hair, those shudders running through him so hard she was only surprised they didn’t knock her unconscious.
Though really, the shudders weren’t what she found herself concentrating on. The taste was the thing—salt-sweet and far slicker than she’d imagined—and the feel of his silky skin beneath the press of her tongue. It made her want to go for more, but once she’d actually done it she realized something pretty obvious.
She hadn’t the first clue about how to do this thing. He’d had tricks, and ways of going about it, and the magical ability to transport her into transcendental ecstasy. She had some vague idea about maybe sucking him a bit.
The two didn’t match up. He was going to laugh at her efforts, even though he didn’t seem to be laughing now. He didn’t even crack a smile when she looked up at him—he just stared down at her with that tortured, overheated gaze. Mouth a mean line. Shoulders hunched, body still shaking.
And then he told her all the things she most needed to hear.
“Just suck me,” he said. “God, just put your mouth on me.”
It didn’t feel like an order. It felt like permission. Her entire body turned to liquid at the sound of his voice and those words, and after that it seemed easy to simply lean forward and take him in her mouth. Clearly, he didn’t care if she did it wrong or not. He just wanted to feel her—and by God she wanted to feel him too.
It still proved more difficult than she’d imagined, however. He was even bigger in her mouth than he’d seemed when she’d just looked. And although he didn’t thrust or grasp her hair or do any of the things she’d heard men did, once they got you in this prone position, she found it hard to take more of him.
There was just so much to deal with. The heat and the thickness of his shaft and the thought of his expectations. Did other girls take more, and suck harder? He felt so tender in her mouth she could hardly bear to give him any pressure—though it was obvious he liked that very thing.
She could see how hard his hand was squeezing around the base of his shaft. And as she eased back and forth over the swollen head of his cock, he managed to get a word or two out.
“Firmer,” he said, so abruptly it sounded as though he’d cut either end of the word off. And then even more shocking, after a moment, “Use your teeth.”
Men didn’t really like that, did they? She tried to flick through her own murky memory of tame playground talk, but could only come up with images of witches with teeth like sabers, who bit men in two the second they let themselves do such a dirty thing.
Somehow, she suspected that wasn’t what Van had in mind. Though what he did have in mind, she couldn’t say. She tried just drawing the very glancing edge of her teeth along his shaft, getting more gentle as she got to that sensitive head.
Because by God, it was sensitive. Even in her limited experience, she could tell that much. He practically trembled the moment she sucked over it a little harder. And when she finally worked up the courage to give him just a little more bite, he actually bucked into her mouth.