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The Billionaire's Embrace

Page 16

   


He was watching me with hooded eyelids, face unreadable. No help there.
Using my hand to hold him steady, I leaned forward and licked the head of his cock. It tasted salty, not unpleasantly so. I ducked my head and used my tongue to trace the course of that fat vein from the base to the tip.
Carter’s hand tightened in my hair. “Less teasing,” he said.
I hadn’t intended to. I wanted to take my time to explore, but he was probably worried about his guests showing up. I slid my mouth over the head of his cock and gave a gentle suck. It was smooth beneath my tongue, and then felt crinkled where the head flared out over the shaft.
He inhaled, just the slightest click of noise in his throat, but I heard it and was encouraged. I wasn’t doing it completely wrong, then.
I just hoped I didn’t choke. Then he would know I hadn’t done this before.
I rubbed my tongue against the head, keeping my mouth soft. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I knew I wouldn’t be able to deep-throat him, and what looked so simple in porn turned out to be sort of daunting when I was expected to do it. I wasn’t sure how to coordinate my mouth and my hand, or how hard to suck, or what to do with my teeth.
Carter came to my rescue. “You want to be coy, hmm? You want me to tell you exactly what to do? That’s fine. Keep your mouth open.”
I relaxed my jaw and closed my eyes, so relieved I could have cried. I wouldn’t have to fumble around and screw up. Carter would take care of me.
Carter rolled his hips slightly, nudging his cock further into my mouth. I held still and waited for him to tell me what to do next.
“Go down as far as you can,” he said. “Don’t push it. I know you aren’t an expert.” He said it mockingly, and I knew he assumed that I had done this before, and that he was trying to goad me. If he knew the truth—
Well, if he knew the truth, he probably never would have touched me at all.
I was happy to keep him in the dark.
I swallowed the moisture gathering in my mouth, and sank down on his cock. I went down until my lips bumped into my curled fist, and then paused there, the head of his cock filling my mouth and brushing the back of his throat. My eyes watered, and I swallowed again, compulsively, fighting my gag reflex.
I wanted to be good for him.
I liked kneeling there, obedient, waiting, ready for him to use me.
“That’s right,” he said. “Now pull off, and slide your hand up.”
Which direction was up? I took a guess, and when I lifted my mouth off his erection, I drew my hand in the same direction, so that my fingers curled loosely around the fat head of his cock.
“Good,” he said, and a warm glow settled in my belly. “Now do the same thing in reverse. Hand down, and then your mouth.”
I followed his directions, and the gentle pressure of his hand at the back of my head, and quickly established a rhythm. I went down, mouth loose and wet, and sucked hard as I pulled off, and kept my grip firm. Once I got the hang of it, it was easy, and I started feeling overconfident; and then I went down too far and choked, and had to pull all the way off, coughing, eyes streaming tears.
Carter laughed at me. “Slow down. It’s not a competition.”
I hoped it wasn’t; I would lose. I didn’t like the idea that I was competing with anyone, with any other woman he’d known in the past. “Your party,” I said, as if my clumsiness was due only to haste.
“There’s time,” he said. He touched my chin. “You’re crying.” His commanding persona dropped away, and his expression softened. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I said. “I just, uh. Got carried away.”
“So I see,” he said. He used his thumb to wipe a tear from my cheek. “Not tonight. Some other time.”
I nodded, fighting back disappointment. I didn’t want to stop—I wanted to keep going, to show him I could do it. But he was probably right, and I didn’t want to argue too much. What would I say? It’s my first time, I want to keep going?
“Come here,” he said, and bent over to help me off the floor, lifting me back onto the sofa with him. He ran one hand through my hair and kissed me, hot and sweet and slow, and I melted into him. I wasn’t an expert at giving blowjobs—at least not yet—but he didn’t seem to mind.
He shifted on the couch, and I looked down to see him tucking his erection back into his trousers and zipping them up.
Shame flooded through me. I said, “I can—”
“No,” he said. “Some other time.”
“But you can’t just—” I made a vague gesture that meant walk around with a hard-on all night. I was too embarrassed to say it.
He chuckled. “Oh, I can. You, on the other hand.” He cupped one of my breasts, brushing his thumb across my tightly furled nipple. “I don’t think you can wait.”
When he said it, I suddenly knew it was true. I had been ignoring my body’s demands, too focused on Carter, but with his words, I became aware of every tingling inch of skin hungry for his touch. I was wet between my legs, soaking through my underpants, and throbbing in time with my heartbeat.
If he let me leave without touching me, I would probably die.
But it didn’t seem like he was going to do that. He moved his hand away from my breast and dropped it to my hip. He pulled me against him, the sides of our bodies pressed together, and turned so that he was leaning into the corner of the sofa, and I was leaning with my back against his chest. Then he reached down and started hiking up my skirt.
I lifted my hips to give him easier access, and with a few quick tugs he had my skirt pulled up around my waist. He traced his fingers along the lacy waistband of my panties, making me jump.
“What should I do with you, hmm?” he asked me.
I thought the answer was obvious. “I—anything you want,” I said, already breathless.
“Oh, good girl,” he said warmly. “That was the right answer.”
I shivered with pleasure, warm and safe against him, both of his arms around me, holding me close. He slid his right hand between my legs, tracing delicate patterns over the lace of my underpants, stimulating my sensitive flesh and making me burn with arousal.
“You’ve soaked your panties,” he said. “You liked sucking me off, didn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t have made you stop.” He pressed his fingers against my slit and rubbed firmly, and I squirmed against him, wanting more.