Page 95 of End Game

“We’ve never crossed this line before,” he says slowly. “There’s always been—”

“It’s just a blowjob. It doesn’t have to change anything.”

Barrett swallows again. Taking a deep breath, he unbuttons his jeans and undoes the fly. The zipper is loud in the silent room, the only sound except the thundering pound of my heart. He shoves his jeans and shorts down his legs. His cock bobs up against his belly, rigid and red.

“You’re hard.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, well, we’ve been talking about blowjobs. It’s not… difficult.”

I look up at him. “Can I touch you?”

He jerks his head in a semblance of a nod. He almost looks angry—at me? At himself? I’m not sure even he knows.

Crossing the room to him, I press lightly on his chest, until he gets the picture and sits on the edge of his bed. I kneel between his spread legs, staring at his cock. It’s gorgeous, hard as steel and soft as velvet, the swollen mushroom head an angry red. I wrap my hand around the shaft, and he exhales slowly. I run my thumb along the prominent vein beneath the tip.

“Can I taste you?”

He lets out a ragged sigh. His eyes on mine, he nods slowly, and I maintain eye contact as I lean forward and swipe my tongue over the head, lapping up the bead of pre-come dancing on the tip.

“Jesus, Diana,” he says, this time almost like a prayer. He swallows loudly. “Do that again.”

So I do.

Tightening my grip on him, I start to stroke as I suck the head into my mouth, learning his body. If the sounds he’s making are any indication, he likes when I rub the tip along the inside of my cheek, and he likes when I cup his balls in my hand.

Holy shit. I have Barrett’s cock in my mouth, and I’m touching his balls. Holy fucking shit.

Leaning forward, I take more of him into my mouth, sucking harder now. He spreads his knees a little wider, letting me get closer as I stroke the parts of him that don’t fit into my mouth. He tastes a little bit salty and a little bit sweet and a little bit perfect.

I release him, and he lets out a disappointed moan. Making eye contact again, I take his hands and place them on the back of my head. He gets the hint, threading his fingers through my hair and grabbing hold of my ponytail with the other hand. He tugs ever so gently, and I swallow around his length, breathing hard, as a lightning bolt of lust courses through me.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes. “You like this?”

I nod.

He pulls on my head, gently, gently, forcing me to take more of him into my mouth. It’s not a hardship—I’m genuinely wanting more, more, more. The taste of him is thick in my mouth, his pre-come coating the back of my throat. I swallow again, and he sighs. His pelvis tilts up, pushing more of him into me, and I lower my head and take as much as I can.

Barrett holds my head in place as I lick and suck, and when I swallow around him, he starts to fuck into my mouth, slowly rocking deeper, deeper, deeper. I’m surrounded by the heady scent of him, the familiar musk and honey sweetening the deal.

“Fuck, Dee. I’m… holy fuck,” he breathes. His fingers tighten in my hair and I suck, hard, around his length. He moans. “Baby, this feels so good. You’re doing so good.”

The praise makes me glow, and I renew my attention with vigor.

“I can’t believe you want to do this, that you want to…” He groans, thrusting up into my mouth. “So good. So perfect. It’s like you were made to suck dick. My dick. Only suck mine.”

A little thrill runs through me at the idea that I might get to do this again. I don’t want this to be a one time only type of thing. He tastes too good, and he fits so perfectly in my hand, I can’t imagine this could be my only opportunity to touch him, to taste him.

Licking down his shaft, I shift so his length falls across my face. He’s thick and heavy, and the tip leaves a sticky trail of pre-come across the bridge of my nose. He sighs, and I suck on the sensitive vein beneath the head.

“Fuck, Dee. I could come just from that.”

I return my attention to his length, stroking over him as I devote myself to all of his sensitive spots. I learn his body, what makes him sigh and what makes him moan, and when I lick over the tip again, he tightens his hands in my hair and pushes himself past my lips.

“Please, baby. I’m so close. Please let me…” He lifts his hips, fucking into my mouth.

Relaxing my throat, I let him take control as he takes what he needs—what I need. A few quick strokes and then he groans, my mouth flooding with his hot, sticky, salty come. I take it all. He works himself inside my mouth until he’s done and then I pull back ever so slightly.

Meeting his eyes, I swallow, and he lets out a feeble moan.