“It sure is.”
“You still want this? I’m not entirely convinced,” she said, then blew a stream of air across his cock. He twitched against her lips and she quickly kissed the tip, then released him.
He cursed under his breath.
“I didn’t hear you. Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“I want you,” he muttered, and she grinned, knowing how hard it was for him to have the tables turned.
Still, she wasn’t ready to give in. She needed him to want her desperately, to need her terribly. “I think I might require you to ask real nice,” she said, as she cupped his balls, lightly rolling them in her hand, then darting down to give a quick lick and kiss of that most sensitive set of parts. She gripped his shaft hard in her hand as she tasted him, and those twin actions set off a long, long moan from Clay.
“Please,” he whispered, so low it was barely audible.
“I’m not sure I can hear you,” she said, but started giving him his reward, taking him all the way in her mouth, surrounding his hot, hard length with her lips.
He panted hard, and nearly growled at the relief. But she stopped once again, peeking up at him, enjoying the view of his big, strong body stretched out on the sheets. “Do you want it? Ask nicely and I’ll give it to you.”
He shut his eyes briefly, then opened them, holding her gaze. The look was both desperate and hungry. “Please suck me, Julia,” he said, in a hoarse voice.
“Gladly,” she said, and then gave him the full treatment. First hard, then slow, alternating between teasing him and taking him in.
“Maybe not too long now after all,” he said as he gripped her head, sliding his fingers through her hair, tugging as she feasted on him. They kept at it like for a bit, him rocking into her mouth, her savoring him all over. He was quieter than usual though; he wasn’t reeling off directions and telling her what to do. Maybe it was because she’d taken the reins. But then his dirty mouth woke up, as he whispered harshly, “Use your teeth.”
She slowed for a moment, dragging her teeth lightly against his shaft. “Like that?” she asked, glancing up at him.
The look on his face said it all, as his features contorted with pleasure. “Yes. Like that,” he rasped out.
“Damn, you like it rough, don’t you?” she said, and returned to his cock, touching him exactly how he wanted, scraping gently with her teeth as she moved her lips up and down.
“I like it rough, but I also like pretty much anything you to do my cock,” he said, and she took him in further. “Like that,” he hissed out. Then deeper, drawing out a louder groan. “And that’s f**king good too.”
She swirled her tongue around the head, as she gripped the base hard in a fist. He hitched in a breath. “That’s perfect. Take me all the way in and use those gorgeous teeth, Julia.”
Ah, there he was in full force. Her dirty-talking, direction-giving man. She smiled privately, loving the way he used all his talents in the bedroom, his body, his tongue, his cock, and most of all his words. She drew him in, nibbling and sucking and rolling his balls in her hands as he started to f**k her mouth harder, to drive deeper into her.
“You tell me now if I’m f**king you too hard, okay?” he said firmly, but they both knew she wasn’t backing down. They both knew she liked it the same way he did. They were perfectly paired in the bedroom; he gave as good as he got, and she did too. They were two tigers, tussling and tangling, and taking each other, talking dirty, playing rough.
“I’m good,” she said, even with her mouth full. She dragged her nails along the inside of his strong, muscular thighs, making him shiver, then grazed him right between his legs where his thighs met his cheeks, sending his hips shooting off the bed and deeper into her mouth.
“I love it when you use your hands like that. All over me. I want you all over me, your hands, your tongue. And your lips are so f**king beautiful wrapped around my dick,” he said, his narration punctuated by grunts of pleasure. “Fuck, Julia, you’re going to make me come so hard in your mouth right now,” he said, and she gripped the base with her palm, feeling him twitch hard against her as she sucked him off, his salty, musky taste sliding down her throat as his words started to falter, and sentences broke into bits and pieces of truncated words. Feels so f**king good, so good in your mouth, and then her name, over and over, like a chant. Yes, that was her favorite dirty word that fell from his mouth as he groaned out Julia with unbidden pleasure, and she couldn’t help but be satisfied too to have gotten him off so thoroughly, so completely. Because he looked like a most contented man, a happy grin across his gorgeous face.
“Don’t ever doubt me,” she said playfully.
“Never.” He pulled her up, drawing her next to him, and moved in to plant a kiss on her lips.
She shook her head.
“What? I can’t kiss you after I come in your mouth? It doesn’t bother me.”
“No, that’s not it. I just have to confess I hate morning breath, but I really want to kiss you, so how about we brush our teeth and then make out?”
He chuckled deeply, and smacked her ass with a strong hand. “Did I tell you yet how perfect you are? I don’t like morning breath either, but then I’m not such an ass that I wouldn’t kiss you if you had it.” He tapped her nose with his finger. “But you don’t.”
“Thanks, but there’s a toothbrush calling my name anyway.”
After they returned to bed with minty fresh breath, he ran a hand along her hip. “So what else besides morning breath? What are your other pet peeves?”
“You really want to know?”
“I really want to know. So I can avoid them,” he said, holding her gaze with his own, his dark brown eyes so earnest and true. As if it were deeply important for him to know what irked her, so as not to do it.
“Washcloths,” she said, and held out her hands as if it say what gives. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand washcloths. Why use a washcloth to wash your face when you have hands? Put the soap on your hands and wash. Or worse, leave a wet washcloth hanging up in the shower because then it just becomes a damp, used, smelly washcloth.”
He nodded several times as if taking detailed notes in his head. “You might have noticed I don’t own washcloths. I don’t need an intermediary between soap and my body.”
She laughed. “Exactly. You’re already ahead of the game. Here’s another pet peeve. I don’t like seeing a man walking around only in his socks.”