Wicked Ties(54)

She stilled, pulled back a fraction. He allowed it, but tightened his hand at the back of her neck in warning. That pretty pink tongue laved the head of his cock, then wet her soft lips again. He watched it all, scorched by the sight, by her hot gaze drilling into him, innocence and wonder and the desire to experience everything finally overshadowing her fear and doubt.

At the sight, it took every bit of Jack’s control not to start pumping wildly into her mouth. He drew in a sharp breath.

“Deeper, cher. All the way to your throat.”

She nodded, her head bobbing, her tongue stroking the blood-engorged tip of his cock. Morgan opened wider, leaned in. The hot, slick heaven of her mouth enclosed half his length, cradled by her exploring tongue. He hissed. She shook her head, going down, trying to take more.

The feel of her all around him, the sight of her trying to fill her mouth with his flesh, combined to push him dangerously close to the edge. His fingers again tightened at her neck as he pushed another inch of his c**k into the sweet depths of her mouth.

Morgan pulled back a fraction, then slid her lips even farther down his length—nearly to the back of her throat. She punctuated the motion with a moan. The sound vibrated inside him. Pleasure streamed up his dick, wrapped around his balls like a vise. It doubled when she raised her hand to his dangling testicles and cupped them with gentle fingers.

Damn, she had good instincts.

He tensed, again fighting the urge to unleash his lust, to f**k her mouth in a mindless pursuit of pleasure, let go of the come boiling in his scrotum. Her slow exploration was killing him, breaking him down. His toes curled against the hardwood floor. How the hell could he stay in control with those swollen lips and tight mouth slowly sucking out his sanity?

The head of his c**k finally bumped the back of her throat, adding a new dimension to his pleasure. Unable to stop himself, he closed his eyes and groaned, an admission of his need.

“That’s it, cher. That’s right. Suck me deep.”

Opening his eyes again, Jack found Morgan bowed over his cock, eyes closed. She was damn near reverent, the way she held him, took him so far inside. Then she eased back with a leisurely swipe of her tongue. Slow. So damn slow, he’d lose his mind, his control, before she fastened her mouth around his length again.

And he was leaking, fluids escaping his body in a desperate rush to orgasm. Every muscle in his body tense now, trembling, he shoved both hands into her hair and demanded more.

“Faster. Put that sweet tongue on me. There you go…”

With his prompting, Morgan established a more rapid rhythm, but still slow enough that he swore he could feel every groove and bump on her tongue. Still slow enough to completely rob him of his ability to think, to remember his own damn name.

Not f**king her mouth was no longer an option. His hands fisted in her hair. He thrust past her wide, sleek lips, bumping the back of her throat each time.

“Swallow,” he demanded, voice broken. “When I’m at the back of your throat, swallow on me.”

Amazingly, she did. Every time he sank deep. Perfect rhythm, as if she was a f**king pro. Nothing had ever felt this amazing.

Hell, the woman was going to shatter him with this orgasm.

Sweat broke out at his temples, across his back, as he tried to resist the growing pressure in his balls. He couldn’t deny the pleasure for long. The wave built into a dark, sharp ache, demanding he give in. He held it back, gritting his teeth every time her candy tongue danced over the flared purple head, every time her flushed cheeks hollowed as she sucked him in.

Jack wanted to stop the roaring rush toward the cliff, live in this honey-thick throb a bit longer. He withdrew from her mouth, fighting to get a breath without her scent on it, needing a moment that wasn’t totally bombarded with the silk of her tongue bathing his cock.

When he left her mouth with a soft pop, she whimpered. Licked her lips. Turned a hot gaze up to him that pleaded and dared.

“Please, sir…” She fixed her hungry stare on his cock, mouth open wide.

He took his erection in his hand, swiped a thumb over the weeping head, then pushed the wet digit into her waiting mouth.

“You want more of that?”

Her breath came hard and she swiped the moisture from the pad of his thumb. Her eyes stood wide in her rosy-cheeked face. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to suck you, sir.”

“What part of me?” he barked, still torturing them both with long strokes of his hand up and down his length.

Her hungry little gaze was about to eat him alive.

“Your…cock, sir. Let me suck it.”