Page 98 of Jesse's Girl
“Yeah, I want you to.” He leans forward, drawing me into a rough kiss. His voice is low, almost a growl when our lips part. “I want that color ringed around the base of my cock when we’re done.”
Jesus Christ.
It’s a wonder I can stumble to the bathroom to do it.
When I return to the living room and kneel between his legs, Jesse lifts his hips enough for me to tug his jeans out of the way. Gently, almost reverently, he gathers my hair away from my face. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
When I try to move, his fingers tense.
“Mmm, not yet,” he says, his voice thick as he shifts his grip on my hair so he’s holding it in one hand.
“But I want it.” A twitch of confusion touches my brow.
“I know,” he whispers.
“Please,” I breathe, hating how needy I sound. I twine my fingers around his dick and pump in a slow rhythm, smiling when he makes a ragged, desperate sound.
With his free hand, he grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Stick out your tongue.”
“What?” I ask, confused by the wave of heat that ignites between my legs.
“Stick out your tongue,” he repeats. “Show me how much you want it.”
I swallow.
“And if you’re good… I’ll give you what you want.”
Oh, God.
Giving into whatever hot magic this is, I open my mouth, obedient in a way I refuse to think too deeply about. And, when he murmurs his approval and spits into his hand, fisting his rock-hard cock just out of reach, I let out a soft whimper. My desperation to taste him is almost embarrassing, and the slick, wet sound of him touching himself only intensifies my desire. I squeeze my thighs together, chasing relief, and gently brush my fingertips over his balls. I know he can see me squirming for it, and the look on his face tells me he’s holding me off just to wind me up tighter.
Well, it’s fucking working.
Lowering me slowly, he slides the tip over my tongue, the movement torturously controlled. He groans as he pushes between my lips. “Oh, fuck, Ada.”
Greedy and desperate, I suck his thick shaft and moan when the salty taste of him hits my tongue. Where my lips end, I follow with my fist, squeezing and twisting with each stroke. I hold his gaze as I shift my position and run the flat of my tongue up his length, sucking and flicking it against the tip.
“Jesus, Ada, your mouth… fuck… it’s perfect.” He grips my hair with both hands again and guides me up and down, gently fucking my face. “That feels so fucking good. Just like that.”
I can only whimper my response.
He pushes in farther, filling my throat until tears threaten at the corners of my eyes. “Shit. That okay?” he asks, backing off slightly.
I manage a small nod and continue, my cheeks hollowing.
“Fuuuuck, Ada… I love watching you like this… taking me so fucking deep.” Then, he pulls me off him. “C’mere.” Cupping my jaw, he curls forward and kisses my swollen lips, lightly at first, then growing wilder, twisting his tongue against mine. The feeling of his soft mouth after the firm press of his cock is delicious, and a fresh ache hums in my core.
I smile when he presses his forehead against mine. “Why’d you stop me? I wasn’t done,” I tease gently to cover up my confusion, softly stroking him again.
He breathes a quiet laugh. “I just… needed to kiss you.”
“Yeah?” I arch a brow, wiping the smudge of red from his lips.
“Yeah,” he whispers, then swallows. “And I need to know… When I come…”—he pauses, grunting softly when I tighten my grip—“where do you want it?”
I exhale hard.
“Do you want it…”—he pauses as he traces a finger between my breasts—“here?” Slowly, he slides his finger lower, moving it down my stomach. “Here?” Reaching between my legs, he presses against my clit through my shorts. “Here? Or maybe…”—he pauses, reaching back up to push two fingers between my lips—“here?”