body, an electric shock zinging through me.
“Knight, Knight, Knight.”
I came so hard, I couldn’t hold myself wrapped around him, and he had to catch me, groping my ass with a bruising grip. His harsh fingers against my delicate skin only made the orgasm more intense. It ripped me apart in the best possible way.
He pulled out of me at the same time I dropped to my knees. I didn’t even know what I was doing. Worshipping him? Couldn’t have been much else. I didn’t know how to do the thing I wanted to do to him. I didn’t have the first clue how to do it.
Still, I stared at his big hand, pumping his dick, so raw and large and close to me, and I wanted to.
I swallowed, licking my lips and staring at his manhood.
“Can I unload down your throat?”
He’d read my mind, his voice so raspy and hoarse, it felt like fingernails dragging along my skin. He looked drunk on what we were doing, and that made me feel powerful.
“I…I don’t know how.”
“Do you know how to swallow?”
“Ah…yes.”
“Perfect. You passed the test.”
I licked my lips again. I want this dick in my mouth.
The thought surprised me, but also delighted me. I never thought I’d be into something like that.
Before I could articulate my next thought, not to mention form it, his penis was inside my mouth. It was bigger than I’d anticipated it to be, somehow. I gagged as I felt the tip in the back of my throat, my eyes filling with tears. I could taste myself on his skin, and it embarrassed me as he thrust hard and grasped the back of my head, forcing me to gag instead of pull back as was my instinct.
Instead of biting down his cock—which a part of me wanted to do—I clamped my lips over his length, a knee-jerk reaction that matched the hot heat swirling in my stomach. He groaned, and I felt warm, thick liquid rushing down my throat. I kept swallowing and swallowing it, even though it tasted salty, earthy, and strong.
Honestly, a lot like low-carb noodles.
After, I closed my eyes, hugging my knees to my chest. I didn’t know why I was so ashamed. I wasn’t uncomfortable about what we’d done, but I was hurt by the way Knight had used my mouth to get off. So I just let the water rain down on my face and body. I heard him shuffling inside the shower unevenly, probably a little drunk, still, and the scent of coconut and citrus filled the air—soaps and creams and salts everywhere.
“Hey.”
I heard his voice. Soft. So soft all of a sudden. But I couldn’t shake what he had said about having a kid, about not wearing a condom—or how he’d just shoved his dick into my mouth without warning and basically fucked my head.
“Moonshine.” His hand clasped my shoulder.
I held back from wailing. This was not the right time to cry, not when he was drowning in troubles. Then again—was I really that girl? The one who let something like that slide?
“What’s up?” He lowered himself to me, and I opened my eyes. He looked like a wreck. On the plus side, he also looked completely sober.
“I didn’t like it,” I whispered.
He took my hand and began to lather my arm in soap, up and down. He moved on to my other arm, his lips pursed.
“I thought you had an orgasm. I thought it was good for you,” he said boyishly, his ears pinking to a deep shade of rose. “Well, fuck. I’m sorry.”
“I did like it. But I didn’t like the way we did it. You were angry. You didn’t listen to me when I asked you to put on a condom. And that thing in the end…”
He stopped touching me and looked up. The water was pounding on us, like that time when he’d saved me on my bike. The memory soothed my aching heart. Then I remembered the Knight I was talking to wasn’t the same boy who’d risked his life for me. That boy wasn’t an addict.
“I’m sorry about the condom. That was… God, it was such a dick move. Shit.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He sat down in front of me, burying his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. There was something so vulnerable about seeing him—big and athletic and formidable—naked. I shamefully loved and rightfully hated this view of Knight—fragile and imperious at the same time.
“I get