Protege(65)

Ah. He turned and scrutinized her. “Has your period ended?”

“No, but it’ll probably be gone by tomorrow. I usually only have it for four days.” She licked her lips. “I could . . . take care of you.”

Sometimes his ex-wife would feel displaced if he didn’t touch her for a few days. She’d get squirrelly and often act out in an attempt to gain his attention. He admired a woman who possessed the courage to ask for what she needed. His lesson about communicating honestly must have registered.

He stood and rounded the desk. When he reached the front, he leaned against the ledge. Eyeing her carefully, he lowered his zipper. “You may come in.”

She closed the door, which amused him, being that they rarely had company. She walked slowly to him and waited. He sensed her submissive nature, felt the pull of her soft character waking his alpha. His finger traced down her cheek, her lashes lowering as she sucked his digit into her mouth.

Her lips, full and tempting, released him as her hazel eyes refocused on his face. “May I pleasure you, Sir?”

Such beautiful, delicate submission. She made it so easy for him, proving that, with the right counterpart, a Dom didn’t need to be harsh and demanding. “On your knees, my beautiful peach.”

She lowered with the grace he’d come to expect from her. Such an improvement compared to her positioning when they first started. She gazed up at him for direction and his curiosity took over.

“You offered me a gift, and I accept, peach. Please, take care of me. You know what I need.”

This seemed to throw her off. Though they often connected under his explicit direction, she didn’t require more than his permission. This was how it typically worked in reality. Not every day was an intense scene. Sometimes there was just closeness and a satisfaction of needs.

For as much as he was the one about to be pleasured, it was her need to serve him that was being satisfied. The balance was a stunning sample of the give-and-take he cherished in a relationship.

Leaning up, she reached for his cock and carefully pulled it out, her hand stroking him slowly. He watched, fascinated by the courage it took her to make the next move. A little encouragement, perhaps. “I love your hands on me. And your mouth.”

Leaning forward, she licked and kissed the tip and he sighed. “Mmm, my sweet peach.” His fingers brushed her over her bun. “You take such good care of me.”

Her lips parted and he was engulfed in suctioning heat. His spine tingled as the ligaments in his legs stretched, his fingers closing around the ledge of the desk as his hips thrust forward. Her body lifted as she leaned into him, her hands holding her balance against his thighs.

She worked him over well, taking him deep in her throat. His eyes fell shut as he embraced the beauty of her touch, the skill of her attention. When his body tingled, he widened his stance and ran the backs of his fingers from her temple to her jaw.

“You look so pretty with my cock stuffing your mouth.”

Her eyes, wide and thickly lined with soft lashes, stared up at him as his hand slid under her jaw and cupped her gently. His other hand palmed the back of her head. “You’re going to swallow every drop, aren’t you, peach?”

Her head slightly nodded within his hold and he pressed forward, stabbing the back to her throat with each thrust. “That’s it. Take my cock. Open wide. Show me how much you love swallowing my cum.”

Her throat relaxed and he forced himself as deep as he could go, f*cking her mouth rapidly as his toes curled in his shoes. She moaned, her grip tightening on his thighs as his release burst into her mouth, sliding quickly down her throat.

She continued to suck and once he found his bearings he pulled himself out of her mouth and leaned down. Still holding her jaw, he kissed her deeply, tasting his own flavor on her lips and tongue.

Pulling away slowly, he whispered, “You honor me. Thank you, peach.”

Her body trembled as she stared at him. It would kill him to see her look at someone else the way she was looking at him now. The longer he put off the inevitable, the greater his dread grew.

He should have said something sweet and encouraging in that intimate moment, but as always, his need to keep her emotions in check—and perhaps his own—trumped all. “I want you to plan a menu for Saturday. We’re going to be entertaining some friends. I’ll let you know how many by tonight.”

Her expression wasn’t wounded by any means. On the contrary, she seemed to relish the challenge of a project. However, the moment her gaze shifted from adoration to determination, he wished he could take it back and glimpse the reverence in her eyes a second longer.

That afternoon he made some calls. Ezra was in agreement that putting off a ménage any longer would only mislead her. It was something she’d asked to experience, and there was no reason to deny her. The selection of players was difficult.

In truth, the idea of sharing her with others didn’t sit well, but that wasn’t his call as she wasn’t technically his. This was about her, not him. Ezra offered his services and that seemed like a safe bet. Lea was very interested in participating for parts of the evening, and the fact that she would be there with Ezra also worked. However, for his own personal reasons, they still needed another man present, and that complicated things.

“You know who you should ask. I don’t know why you’re even considering others,” Ezra said, as they danced around the options.