Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,105

jersey. With a tug, his body was unveiled, his narrow waist and broad chest, the muscles shifting and stretching, bunching and smoothing. His hair tumbled out of the neck, his eyes finding mine the second they could.

I’d sat up unwittingly, my hands on his abs, his cock at my chest. I looked down as I reached for his base, the slit at the tip of his crown shining and slick. I realized distantly what that slickness was in the same instant the urge rose to taste it.

His fingers slipped into my hair, but I barely felt it. My eyes were locked on his cock, my tongue darting absently out of my mouth to wet my lips, my salivary glands on overdrive.

My lips parted, breath heavy, tongue extending the split second before I reached his cock.

Soft and hard, smooth and hot, the very tip of him slipping into my mouth. My tongue explored the notch under his crown, tasted the salt of his skin, felt the fullness of my mouth and heard the hiss of pleasure, the sting of my scalp as his fist tightened in my hair.

I backed away, closing my lips in a kiss when they reached the top, and opened my mouth again, sighing as I took him once more, testing my limits as I took him deeper.

Deep being a relative term. There was no level of relaxed or ready that would fit all of him in my mouth. But Tommy didn’t seem to mind. His ass was clenched so rock hard, his body trembling as if his chains were about to snap. And when they did, he’d fuck my mouth until I choked.

Shockingly, the thought didn’t scare me at all.

I took my time where I was, not sure what I was doing, only knowing that it felt good. And by the way Tommy was panting, hips locked in place, it seemed like it felt good to him, too.

I wanted all of him in all of me, the urge inexplicable and overwhelming. Deeper I went, my eyes watering and throat protesting, one hand stroking his base. The other had a grip on his stony ass. As I descended, I pulled him into me, forcing his hips to move. Forcing him to get deeper. Begging him to take what he wanted, not to hold back.

My hair was fisted in his big hand, the tail brushing my naked back. I could feel that he was close in the pulse up his cock, the shaft impossibly hard, the throb and the slick coat of cum in my throat. And incrementally, his hips unlocked. Little by little, he trusted my certainty, flexing gently as he learned how deep I could take it.

From gentle to easy. From easy to intent. From intent to hard.

I spurred him on, knowing he was there, right there, telling him with my hand on his ass to come, to let go, to do it. But he was still holding back.

I opened my eyes, looked up his body.

For a moment, time paused, my mind—jacked on adrenaline—took note of a sight I had never imagined and was completely overcome by.

I was at the mercy of a god, and he was at mine.

The ridges of his abs climbed his torso like a ladder, the rippling muscles over his ribs catching the light and casting shadows. His pecs, broad and wide, his peaked nipples. The curves of his shoulders and biceps, his forearm of the arm that had ahold of my hair.

But it was the expression on his face that once again struck me. Full lips parted in desire, the square of his jaw hard, the line of his nose strong. His brows, so dark and powerful, drawn together, shadowing his dark eyes, eyes that met mine with a plea and demand. His dark hair fell around his face, everything about him both shrouded and open. His face. His body. His heart.

I pulled him into me, deeper this time, my throat closing painfully, but I didn’t stop.

He did.

In a chain of motion too fast to follow, he pulled out with an unexpected pop, and the place where his cock had been was replaced by his lips. My hand still gripped him, the other following suit, his length slick from my mouth and sliding between my palms. Two thrusts, and he swelled, and with a deep, controlled grunt, he came in hot bursts that streamed across my stomach and breasts. His forehead pressed to mine, his eyes pinned shut and breath noisy, hips