His balls tightened and his spine tingled, proof that he was close. He tried to pull back, not wanting to catch her by surprise. “No,” she mumbled around his cock and took him in farther. That was it for him. He was coming and powerless to stop. He only hoped she would push him away before she suffocated on his cum.
Instead, she took everything that he gave her and sucked him dry. “Angel.” He found himself begging for mercy. “Baby, stop before I pass out.”
As spent as he was, when she sat back on her knees and licked her lips, he felt his dick twitch. Then he lost his heart to her when she gave him a saucy smile and asked, “Good, right?” At this defining moment, he knew he was in love for the first time in his life. Most men were probably prone to some fuzzy thoughts after a blow job, but an outstanding one was enough to make the biggest of bastards sentimental. Since none of those had ever applied to him, he knew this was different. He could easily picture himself having moments such as this with her for the rest of his life, which was the real confirmation that she was different. “It was amazing,” he agreed as he stroked her cheek. He stood, pulling his pants up so that he wouldn’t trip over them, before extending a hand to her. “Come on, baby; let’s go to bed.” She allowed him to lead her down the hallway and into his darkened bedroom. He left her at the doorway while he walked across the room and turned on a bedside lamp. Then he quickly stripped and took a seat at the foot of the bed. She looked at him uncertainly as if awaiting his instructions. Good girl. “Do you need my help taking your dress off?”
She shook her head, saying quietly, “No.”
He palmed his rapidly hardening cock, stroking it from tip to root lightly as he said, “Remove it—now.” She only hesitated briefly before bending to grip the hem of her dress and pulling it slowly over her head. Before she could release the material from her hands, he said, “Now place it on the chair close to you.”
“Yes . . . ,” she replied.
Mark had a feeling that it was on the tip of her tongue to add “sir,” but she didn’t. Thank Christ, because he wasn’t sure how he would have handled it. The urge to dominate her was already overwhelming, and she wasn’t ready for that. Something about her demeanor told him that she wouldn’t be averse to it, but to him, she wasn’t like the others. He’d never been a tender lover, but with her, that was his first inclination. He could far too easily imagine a life where they could both express themselves sexually, secure in the unconditional acceptance that their love for each other would bring.
“Take your bra off for me.” Again, without question, she flicked the clasp between her breasts and released it before putting it on top of her dress. He continued to pull on his cock, content to watch as she bared herself to him. “Now the panties, beautiful girl,” he directed. She was absolutely gorgeous as she shimmied out of a scrap of lace and added it to the pile. A look of surprise flashed across her face when he pointed to the other chair and said, “Now have a seat. Spread your legs and put them over each armrest.” Again, she barely faltered before doing as he instructed.
When she parted her thighs, revealing her neatly trimmed sex, Mark felt his renowned control beginning to slip. While he was attempting to regroup, she asked shyly, “Now what?”
Now I come in my hand like an inexperienced teenager, he thought dryly. Clearing his throat, he said huskily, “Touch yourself, baby. Show me what you do when you’re alone.”
He almost choked on his tongue when she looked around and asked, “Do you—um, have a vibrator?”
Sweet heaven. Count to ten . . . do anything but focus on the visual of what she’s implying. “I—not at the present, Angel,” he wheezed. “Make do without it.”
She shrugged her shoulders and then dropped a hand between her legs. She began circling her clit as if she had all the time in the world. His cock was so hard by this point, it could be used as a fucking battering ram. He squeezed the tip and attempted to blank his mind. Not easily done when Angel was sitting just feet away with a finger now buried in her wet heat. “Mark,” she moaned as her motions went from languid to feverish.
She was close—almost at the edge. “Keep your eyes open and on me, Angel,” he called out, bringing her head up immediately. She was magnificent. She embraced her sexuality in a way that made him weak with desire. She was his perfect match. She made him a better version of himself, and he gave her the freedom to shine in a way that she had always been denied.
Never looking away from him, she thrust two fingers deep into her channel and her body clenched. He could smell her arousal as she came by her own hand while chanting, “Mark . . . Oh God, Mark . . .”
Her words were his undoing. Taking her slowly at first never seemed to be an option. The edge had to be taken off before he could take his time and make love to her. He didn’t even bother to tell himself tonight that it was anything other than that. If it were, she would have been long gone like the women he had known before her. “Come to me, Angel,” he demanded softly. He watched as she rose to her feet before moving gracefully across the dimly lit room, stopping just inches from him. He reached for the hand that she had so recently pleasured herself with and sucked the two fingers he knew she had used into his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet, musky flavor. He licked until nothing remained before releasing her digits. He raised his arms to encircle her waist, and then surprised them both by laying his head on her stomach. After a moment, he felt her fingers run through his hair, stroking him gently.