Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(36)

Releasing her clit from my mouth, I look up, noting her flushed cheeks and the way her breasts heave underneath the beautiful blue of her dress. “Take a deep breath for me, pet, and don’t let it out until you see stars.”

She does—immediately—her throat tightening as she inhales and holds. My hand wraps around the sides of her neck, and I dive back into her pussy, slowly increasing the pressure around her windpipe at the same rate of my suction on her clit.

Her hands grapple in my hair, thighs trembling as they close around my head. My fingers curl inside of her, rubbing the spongy spot of her inner walls, my gaze locks on her from my place between her legs. Her eyes are rolling in the back of her head, her lips parted as I ensure she can’t take in air even if she wished.

My cock throbs as I think of her lips turning blue, her body on the verge of giving in; of giving up, right before I allow her to come, letting the sweet air expand in her lungs and bring her back to life.

Her back bows off the couch as she explodes, her fingers nearly ripping my hair from the root, the sting of pain making my balls tighten and heat coil at the base of my spine.

I release her throat, reveling in her deep gasps of air, and continue to lap at her while she soars from the high.

Finally, I release her clit, my fingers making an audible noise as they withdraw from her sopping cunt. My gaze locks on hers as my tongue swipes across my lips, cleaning her taste from my mouth.

My chest pulls, insides reeling as I stare down at her, realizing that I’ve never held such beauty in my hands.

And in this moment, I’m not sure how I’ll let her go.





21





Wendy





No one has ever done that to me before, and as my body floats back down to earth, the aftershocks of my orgasm give way to a tightening in my muscles—a need to please him back. To give him what he’s just given me.

I’ve never felt so wanted. So sexual. So... free.

And, sure, we haven’t talked yet, haven’t had the meaningful conversations I’ve always imagined I’d have with the person who I give my firsts, but for some reason this feels like enough. Like he already knows me without needing to speak. It’s possible I’m making a mistake, maybe I’ll wake up in the morning and regret my choice, but right now, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.

I just want, for one second, to be able to let go.

If I’m honest with myself, in the deepest parts of my mind, and the darkest chambers of my heart, there’re pieces of me hoping that maybe once my virginity is gone, the coat of innocence I can’t seem to shed will disappear too.

It’s exhausting having everyone treat you as though you’re something fragile. Breakable. Less than.

Moira’s words from earlier flash through my mind, and so do Maria’s sharp jabs. Everyone sees me as a child; a young girl with no experience in the world, and for so long, I’ve let them speak their thinly veiled insults and backhanded compliments. I’ve let them assume that because I have soft features and don’t speak out of turn, it means they’re right.

But I’m tired.

And James, he makes me feel like a woman. Like his equal. Like I have a choice, and he respects me to make it.

He rises from his spot between my legs, his pink tongue licking along the seam of his lips as he gazes at me. Arousal swirls through my middle, my stomach flipping from his stare.

I sit up, leaning on my elbows, my insides warm and my head floating. James made me ride the edge of consciousness, blackness rimming my vision and euphoria flooding through my veins—the pressure winding through my core combined with the press of his palm making endorphins explode like fireworks. And now I’m still riding the high. I crawl toward him, the couch cushions soft under my knees, praying that I don’t look ridiculous. I have no clue what I’m doing, but for the first time, I unlock the clasp that latches my urges down deep, and I just do what feels good.

My hand runs up his leg, the fabric of his pants soft under my palms. His gaze tracks my every move, his nostrils flaring as he stares down at me.

I continue my trek upward, my stomach soaring and falling like a roller coaster as my palm meets the thick length between his legs. It’s surprisingly stiff—different than I expected, and heat builds in my center, desperate to know what it feels like in the palm of my hand.

“Can I touch you?” I ask.

His blue eyes flash, his fingers moving to cup my cheek. His touch is so tender my heart skips, warmth spreading like molasses through my chest, and I lean into his hand, wanting to bask in the comfort it provides.

“You never need permission to touch me, darling.” He sits forward, pressing his mouth to mine, suckling my bottom lip before pulling back. “I’m yours just as much as you’re mine.”

His words spread through my body like a wildfire, and I push him back on the couch, my hands going to his belt and unzipping his pants. His hips lift, allowing me to strip him from the waist down until his cock bobs free, standing straight in the air.

I sit back on my legs, heart ramming against my ribcage, nerves sizzling beneath my skin and making my hands clammy.

It’s bigger than I thought it would be. And thick; a large vein running up the underside and disappearing underneath the head. My tongue sneaks out to run along my lips, my insides tightening.