The Boy Who Has No Belief - Victoria Quinn Page 0,38
conquered.
I continued to stare at him in front of me, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, his hair styled and his jaw shaved. He was a million times more handsome than he was before, knowing he’d done something for me that utterly terrified him.
He continued to hold my gaze as he waited for me to say something. When I didn’t, he whispered, “What is it?”
“I just…” I stepped closer to him. “I’m not sure if I want to jump your bones on that couch…or give you a blow job instead.” My hands moved to the bottom of his shirt, and my fingers slowly slid underneath.
His eyes darkened immediately at my bluntness, his body stiffening as he prepared for whatever my decision would be.
My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt and slowly pulled it up his body.
His eyes stayed on me as he lifted his arms so I could pull it over his head and leave him bare-chested, hard, and sexy.
My hands went to his jeans and got them loose before I pushed them down, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his boxers so I had a good grip to get them down his narrow hips, his thick veins emerging, and then his big cock. “So, you have a preference?” I tugged his bottoms down farther as I sank to my knees in front of him.
He sucked in a breath and held it when he watched what I was doing.
I knew this was an experience he’d lived through in his mind, a story he’d written for himself. A fantasy was unfolding in front of his eyes, my skirt rising up as I moved to my knees on the bare hardwood floor.
He still didn’t take a breath as he looked at me, like he couldn’t believe this was real, that this was about to happen and he didn’t even have to ask. His cock twitched like it was eager to slide past my warm lips and glide across my tongue.
My fingers moved to the buttons of my blouse, and I popped them open so he could see my cleavage in my push-up bra. Then I grabbed the base of his dick, my fingers wrapping around its thickness, and I pointed his swollen head at my mouth as I inched closer, and I slowly dragged my tongue over his skin like it was a delicious popsicle.
He immediately inhaled a deep breath, practically wincing because the touch was so raw.
I did it again and again, watching his eyes darken and intensify, his cock throbbing in my hand.
I pushed my mouth over his crown and shoved him slightly down my throat, letting him stretch me a bit before I pulled out again, the spit building up in my cheeks. I licked my lips before I looked him dead in the eye and said, “Fuck my mouth.”
He inhaled another breath before he fisted his hand in my hair and released a loud moan, like that was the button he wanted to be pressed, like that was exactly what he wanted to hear. His fingers dug into the back of my neck, and he thrust in my mouth, fucking me just like I’d asked. “Baby…take that dick.”
We didn’t go out for breakfast like we planned.
We ended up in bed, naked under the sheets, lying side by side as we stared at each other. His thick arms were around my waist as his head rested inches from mine, his eyes looking into my face like my features were mesmerizing, even when my makeup was a shitshow after all the stuff we’d just done. I loved it when he surrounded me with masculine strength, when he just held me and looked at me like this.
My stomach rumbled, announcing my hunger.
His eyes softened like he thought it was cute. “Want to get breakfast?”
“There’s no time…”
“We can go on the way.”
“No. I know you need to get to work. And I’d rather spend our last few minutes like this.” My fingers touched his arm lightly, feeling the thick muscles of his sexy arms. I wasn’t a petite woman. I was five-seven, had wide birthing hips, and a loud personality. It was nice to be with a man big enough to make me feel small for a change.
“I really don’t mind. There’s more to life than work.”
My eyes narrowed at his comment. “Did Derek Hamilton just say there was more to life than work?”
He shrugged. “There is. I’ve learned that the hard way.”