Page 35 of Beauty and the Bosshole
I glance around the room, wondering which position I want to do this in, and finally settle on just kneeling at his feet.
His eyes blaze with heat as he stares down at me. “What are you doing?”
“I want to taste you.”
“Fuck,” he says through his teeth. “You don’t have to do this, sweetheart.”
“I know that. I want to. I want to do everything with you.”
His tongue runs over his bottom lip, and I’m struck again by how damn sexy this man is. We haven’t known each other long, but the connection between us is like a live wire.
I undo his belt, then the button and zipper on his pants. Then I shove at the fabric until it slides off his butt and hips. He’s already hard for me. The ridge of his erection pressing against his boxers looks nearly obscene. Obviously, I don’t have anything to compare him with unless you count the few times I’ve looked up dirty gifs online. But I feel certain that Reese is larger than average when it comes to the equipment he’s working with.
I run my palm over the hardness of him and he hisses. “Take off your shirt,” I tell him.
One brow arches. “You first,” he says.
I grin but pull off my shirt and then follow with my bra. I’m completely topless, kneeling before him.
He reaches down and cups one of my breasts. “One of these days, I’m going to fuck these beauties.”
I just nod because I’m not completely sure how that would work, though my imagination is conjuring one hell of a mental picture. Reaching up, I trace a line down his perfect torso. A smattering of hair across his pecs narrows into a line that bisects his perfect abs and disappears into his boxers.
“You’re so perfect,” I tell him.
“No, sweetheart. I’m far from perfect. You, on the other hand, are a fucking dream come true.”
I shake my head. “You’re perfect to me. For me.” In one swift motion, I pull his boxers down his thighs. His dick, no longer confined behind fabric, bobs toward my face. And because I am so effortlessly cool, I laugh.
“Well, that’s not the reaction a man hopes for,” he says. “Mind sharing what’s so funny with the rest of the class?”
“I saw this meme one time online where it said this is what an erection would sound like if they made noise. Then it was one of those springy door-stopper things goingboingggggggg. I always thought that was hilarious. And my very helpful brain reminded me of it. I’m sorry. I’m probably terrible at being sexy.”
He reaches down and cups my face. “Being you, being the Ava I’ve come to know, is pure sexiness.”
“I’m sorry if I ruined the mood.”
“Ava, look how hard my fucking dick is. See how he’s already weeping for you? You ruined nothing.”
I stare at his erection and Reese is right; he’s still hard as stone. I run my open palm up his cock, starting at his balls and sliding up the shaft to end at the mushroom-shaped head.
He groans.
I lean forward and repeat the motion, but this time I do it with my tongue. I swirl my tongue around the tip, licking off the bead of liquid there. He’s salty and musky and I can feel my pussy flooding my panties. So, I lean closer and suck him into my mouth. Just the tip at first, getting myself used to his girth. I reach forward and wrap my fingers around the root of his dick.
“Goddammit, wife.”
His words do something to me, and I suck more of him into my mouth. Hollowing my cheeks, I slide further down his length.
He digs his fingers into my hair but makes no move to control me.
I always worried that, if I were ever in this position, I’d hate it. I wouldn’t like the smell or the taste or the feel. That being literally on my knees in front of a man would make me feel inferior. The exact opposite is true. Power surges through me, making me feel sexy. Like I’m one of those scantily-clad women in the long, flowing, sheer lingerie robe-like things. They always exude confidence. I was as similar to those creatures as I was to a mermaid.
But right now, in this moment, Iamthat woman. Full of power and sensuality. I am a seductress.
Instinctively, I cup his balls, weighing them in my palm.
“Ava. Fuck,” Reese groans.