Page 16 of Made to Order
Torturing him is fun, but I would rather watch him come than play with him anymore.
Without breaking eye contact, I open my mouth and slowly suck him down—inch by glorious inch—until the head of his cock bumps against the back of my throat. I don’t have a gag reflex, so when he groans, shuts his eyes, and sucks in a breath, I know my next move will send him over the edge.
And I will enjoy watching every moment of it.
I wait a few seconds until his eyes open and meet mine again, and then I tilt my head back and swallow, letting the muscles of my throat milk his release from him.
“Holy motherfucking…shit!” His orgasm hits him, and he shoves his dick even further down my throat in tight, sharp thrusts. I grasp his ass and hold him steady as he spills down my throat with his eyes clenched shut.
When he’s finally spent, he groans and slowly withdraws from my mouth. Those hazy amber eyes find mine, and I grin and lick my lips.
“What…the hell…was that?” The question comes between panted breaths, and I can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up from my chest.
He leans down until we’re practically sharing oxygen, but stops short of kissing me.
“Seriously, Jo, that was…” He sucks in and releases a deep breath and then shakes his head slowly. “The most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him and grin. “Oh, was it? I just call that a Morning Alarm Clock.”
10
WADE
“IF THAT’S HOW YOU PLAN on waking me up every morning, then I’m moving in today.”
What?
“You want to move in?”
I shake my head and grin. “It was just a joke. I’m not trying to rush anything. All I wanted was for you to give me a chance to prove to you that you are what I want, nothing and no one else. As long as I’ve done that, I’m happy where we are.”
One corner of her mouth tips up as she tries, unsuccessfully, to conceal a smirk. “While I do think it’s a bit early to be discussing living arrangements, I’m willing to admit I may be enjoying your company…a little.”
“A little?”
Liar.
She can’t maintain her straight face any longer and breaks into a grin. “A tiny bit.”
I shift so my growing erection presses between her legs and she groans. “Tiny?”
Her hands thread into my hair, and she pulls my lips down to hers. “Minuscule.”
A thrust and roll of my hips elicits a moan from her. I capture it with my mouth. She kisses me back and removes one hand from my head to shove it between our bodies. When her fingers curl around my cock, I grunt against her lips.
She grasps me with a firm grip and strokes the length of my shaft—up and down, up and down, up and down—until I’m practically humping her hand.
No, not like this.
“Stop.” I jerk my hips back and grab her wrist to still her hand.
A knowing smile spreads across her face. “What?”
“I’m not coming in your hand. I’m coming inside you. It can be another morning tradition.”
She giggles as I lean over to the nightstand to grab a condom. The pile of empty wrappers makes me smile to myself. And to think, a week ago, I was complaining about too much sex.
Never again.
