Page 43 of Over the Line

“Open your mouth to me.” He tightened his grip in her hair and unfastened the top button on her shirt to reveal her creamy chest. “I mean it.”

The moment she complied, he pressed his tongue to hers, and she moaned, the slight sound of her capitulation galvanizing him. He sought more, wanting her total surrender. She tasted of sweet cream, of morning, of promise.

Michael deepened the kiss, and she responded, rising onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, knocking off his hat in the process.

When they communicated like this, from a place of desire, she was completely honest.

Helplessly, she met each of his thrusts, and he reached inside her shirt to caress one of her breasts.

No doubt she was tender from last night, but he didn’t want to make her too sore…for now. When he flogged her later, he wanted her to enjoy the feel of deer hide biting at her nipples.

With a moan, she curled one hand over his cock. Now he wished he’d dressed in something other than jeans. He adjusted their positions, dragging her closer.

With that, she met his intensity with a ferocity of her own. Still, he maintained control, just as he should.

In incremental measures, he ended the kiss and eased his grip. “I should have done that last night. A dozen times,” he amended.

“I don’t normally kiss.” Her words and expression were both prim.

Along with snuggling. “You do now.”

“I suppose that’s true, Sir. And since your hat seems to have fallen off…” She moved to press her palms against his chest. “We should get started on my offer.” Diligently, she set to work on his shirt, unfastening the buttons and pulling the hem from his waistband.

Enjoying the bold vixen, he allowed her to lead. Temporarily.

When she was done, he shucked the material from his shoulders while she fumbled with the metal button at the top of his jeans.

Then she struggled with the zipper.

“Your massive cock is making this more difficult.” A scowl accompanied her protest.

“What do you suggest?”

She used both hands—one to hold the denim taut, the other to release the metal teeth. Then she pushed his jeans down, letting them fall to his ankles.

The sensation of her tongue lapping his cock was stunning.

Kneeling, she cupped his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other, methodically moving up and down his engorged shaft. Then she took him deep into her mouth until he was certain she might choke. But she didn’t.

“Damn,” he mumbled. Her touch was masterful. She placed a finger on his perineum and a million sensations zinged through him. He’d had blow jobs before, really good ones, but no other woman had been as dedicated to the task as she was.

She moved up to place the tip of her tongue underneath his cock. Eagerly, she continued, adding extra pressure to that sensitive spot near his anus and licking with the lightest of touches.

Constantly she changed the tempo, licking and sucking harder as she tightened her grip. Then she slid up and took his dick in her mouth again.

With tiny sighs of pleasure, she caressed, pulled, cupped. That she was into it, into him, drove him mad. “Sydney,” he warned, on the verge.

Ignoring him, she tightened her grip, driving his orgasm.

“Darlin’…” He groaned as ejaculate pulsed from deep inside.

He expected her to pull away, letting him spill on the ground or her chest, but she didn’t.

Instead, she drew up, holding on to the tip of his cock as she swallowed every single drop.

He cupped the sides of her face, and she flicked her gaze upward. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it appeared she was smiling while she still had him in her mouth.

Finally, she let go, then licked the last drop from his slit.