“Do I want you to? I’ve been dying to feel that sweet mouth around my cock for years. You don’t have the first idea how fucking bad I want you, do you, Dakota? How many times I’ve imagined you just like this, getting ready to wrap those perfect pink lips around my dick?”
Lust tumbled through my being, and I leaned in and licked him again before I pulled only the head into my mouth. I rolled my tongue around it while Ryder wound my ponytail in his hand.
He gave it a slight tug. “Suck me like a good girl, Dakota.”
A frenzy of nerves skittered, a rush of that energy that glowed, and I took him in as far as I could take him, his cock so hard and heavy in my mouth, so big it took everything in me not to instantly gag, the cool metal of the barbell piercing at odds with the heat that filled me.
A grunt drummed through his body. “Cookie. Fuck. Your mouth. So good, baby. Always knew you were going to wreck me.”
I rode back up, picking up a rhythm, hoping I had a chance at giving him the kind of pleasure he’d ruined me with.
Because it wasn’t me who was doing the wrecking.
It was the man who started to drive his hips forward with every stroke of my mouth, pressing in deeper like he wanted to overpower me.
Consume me.
But he’d already done it a long time ago.
So I was giving into it wholly.
I took him deeper with each thrust, and I wrapped both hands around the portion I couldn’t take.
He hit the back of my throat each time.
And he was yanking harder at my ponytail, so hard it pricked at my scalp.
And I liked it.
God, I liked it, the way he was handling me.
Arousal spread through me again, slicking my thighs where I was on my knees, and I was pressing them together as he started to pound into my mouth.
“Look at me,” he demanded. He tugged at my hair. “Look at me.”
I did, and it tilted my head back, changing the angle, and his cock drove deeper into the back of my throat as he pushed in slower than he had been.
“Never thought I’d see something so perfect, Dakota. Look at you. So fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”
I whined around him, and he sent me one of those smirks that sheared through me like a knife. Penetrating to the deepest places.
I vibrated with need. With joy. With the pleasure of what I was giving him.
And for a flash, his expression went tender.
So tender that it hurt to even look at him.
Then he touched the edge of my mouth. “Harder, Cookie. Show me how good you can give it.”
He let go of my hair and took me by both sides of the face, and I angled up higher on my knees, holding on to the outside of his thighs as he took over, driving himself in deep, hard thrusts.
I felt it when he came apart.
When the glistening on his flesh somehow illuminated.
A flash of light.
A thunderbolt.
He rasped and grunted as he throbbed, as he poured into my mouth, holding me by both sides of my face while I swallowed around him, taking him deeper than I had before.
Ragged pants echoed from him, and he slowly withdrew.
Only he kept ahold of my face.
Big hands gentle.
Gunmetal eyes gazing down.
He ran the pad of his thumb over my swollen lips.
“Cookie,” he whispered.
The faintest bit of shyness worked its way into my conscious. “Was that okay?”
I was a whole lot of years out of experience.
He didn’t smirk, though.
He just pulled me up and onto my feet, curled an arm around my waist, and brushed the lock of hair that had gotten free from my face.
We were chest to chest, the fabric of my dress the only thing separating us as he held me to the heat of his body. “It wasn’t okay, Dakota,” he murmured. “It was more than I should ever ask you for.”
He held me there for a minute before he blew out a sigh then stepped back to snag his underwear where they were wound in his jeans. He tugged them on, and I tried not to ogle him, but I couldn’t help myself.
It was the first time I felt like I could really look at him without feeling like I was stealing something that wasn’t mine.
That I wasn’t creeping on what would forever be out of reach.
It still felt like gluttony.
Like decadence.
I remained in that spot while he wandered over to where he’d left my underwear on the floor, and that time he was smirking as he made his way back. “Never going to be able to look at you again without imagining these panties under your dress. You tryin’ to wreck a man?”
A disconcerted laugh slipped off my tongue. “I do hope you imagine I change them every once in a while.”