Lilac - B.B. Reid Page 0,77

less awkward. Braxton held my gaze, picking up on my cues whenever she gripped me too tight or didn’t apply enough pressure. When she found her rhythm, my eyes drifted close, and my head fell back against the door.

Fuck, Braxton.

I kept my eyes closed for maybe two seconds top—long enough to realize I wanted to watch every second. Her cheeks were hollow now as she tried to swallow more of me. She made it halfway before giving up and bobbing her head back and forth. Had she been a groupie, or I’d been Houston or Loren, I would have made her take all of me. Instead, I respected the rhythm she set for as long as I could. The wet sound of me fucking her mouth was curling my goddamn toes.

Eventually, the pleasure she offered trampled all over my good intentions. I was too far gone to think of anything else but dumping my cum down her throat. My fingers slid through her red hair before gripping the lush strands tight. I then did the most challenging part of reaching the orgasm I needed.

I pulled her mouth off my dick.

The lower half of her face was soaked in her effort to please me as she blinked her teary eyes at me in confusion. My dick was angry with me, too, for interrupting. Thick veins ran down my shaft coated in her saliva until reaching the purple head that hung mere inches above her lips.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, okay?”

Her brows dipped as I lowered my jeans around my thighs. “Wasn’t that what we were doing?” She looked like she wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole. “You didn’t like it?”

I smiled down at her before bending, grabbing her hands, and kissing each set of knuckles. “It was perfect.”

I didn’t know how to explain what I needed without scaring her, so I said nothing. Bringing her hands around to my ass for her to hold, I slipped my fingers through her red hair before getting a good grip.

Her lips were made for sucking cock, and I intended to help them reach their full potential. The day we met, I thought she’d been wearing a soft shade of red lipstick. And then I realized that everything about Braxton was natural—her red hair, swollen lips, perky tits, curvaceous ass, and her ability to captivate me by just being in the room.

Braxton’s lips parted when I teased them with my dick, and I was back in her mouth again with a groan.

This time I didn’t hold back.

I wasn’t Rich, and she wasn’t Braxton.

She was a warm mouth and nothing more.

I used her.

I felt her hands still gripping my ass as I worked her mouth. The sounds that filled the room as I went deeper than she dared were obscene. I pushed her limits and mine. I threw away the nice guy she expected and fucked my way to oblivion. The part of my mind still lucid, worried I might go too far.

And then Braxton opened her mouth as wide as she could and tipped her head back for easier access. Each time my concern for her slipped through the pleasure, she’d dig her fingers in my ass, warning me not to stop. It went like that until the telltale signs of my orgasm approaching washed away all thought.

I didn’t even think to stop myself from coming down her throat.

She held me in her gaze, and I held her in mine when I felt my orgasm arrive while my dick was lodged in her throat. Her right hand curved around the back of my thigh, soothing until I gathered enough strength to pull away. I barely got my jeans back up before my knees gave out, and I lowered onto the floor in front of her. It was a narrow space, so I stretched one leg out and bent the other.

Neither of us spoke as we fought to catch our breath. When my vision cleared, I saw the mess I had made of her makeup, the sweat wetting her light freckles, and the drop of cum resting on the corner of her lip.

Reaching out, I thumbed it away. When I never cared before, curiosity had me licking my thumb instead of wiping it on my jeans. I’ve heard horror stories, and for the first time, I felt insecure. Braxton smirked when I blinked in surprise.

Twenty-seven and I’d never tasted my own cum. It definitely had some zing to it.

“Did I hurt

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