Page 106 of Beautiful When He Breaks

My fingers flex in his hair, and he groans around me, the vibration making my balls draw up. “Fuck, yes—don’t stop.” I choke, hips twitching before I can stop them.

His hand slides to my balls, cupping and teasing them while he continues to take me down his throat without choking. A loud as fuck moan tears out of me, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep quiet, but he catches it, easing off just enough that the cool air hits wet skin and makes me shudder.

“Don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear every fucking noise you make. I’ve earned them.”

“God,” I gasp, fingers slipping tighter through his curls. “Fuck, Jules, your mouth—”

His hand keeps moving, slow and maddening, while he looks up at me with lips parted and eyes heavy. When he speaks, his voice is wrecked and filthy in a way I will probably remember on my deathbed.

“You like my mouth on you, sweetheart?”

I nearly come from the question alone.

My head knocks back against the wall again when his hand tightens slightly. “Answer me,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along the length of my cock instead of taking me in. “I want to hear you say it.”

The old embarrassment tries to rise, but it doesn’t have enough room to grow. Not with Julian touching me like this. Not with his eyes on me, not demanding performance, just wanting my honesty because my voice matters here.

“Yes,” I say, and it comes out broken. “Yeah. I like it.”

His mouth curves against me. “How much?”

I hate him.

I love him so much I can barely stand it.

“So much I can’t fucking think,” I admit. “So much I want to mess up your hair and keep you choking on me.”

Julian groans, and the sound is so deep I feel it in my thighs. “Then do it,” he says. “Grip my hair and fuck my mouth as hard as you want, baby.”

My fucking cock twitches so hard, precum spills out.

I curl both hands more securely into his hair, and his lashes flutter. He likes it. God, he likes it. That knowledge goes straight through the center of me, bright and dangerous, and when he lowers his mouth again, I push him deeper.

The wall is the only reason I stay upright. That and Julian’s hand bracing me, his palm firm against my hip while his mouth pulls pleasure out of me so steadily I can’t defend against it. It doesn’t feel like falling asleep or going foggy. Every nerve sending up sparks and every sound torn out of my body has my full awareness attached.

His mouth moves with devastating focus as the other hand slides up to remove one of mine from his hair and lace his fingers through it. That simple touch, his fingers locking with mine while he’s on his knees, is what tips the whole thing from unbearable to impossible.

I gasp, and it’s a warning and plea tangled together. He looks up, and I come with his name in my mouth and my hand locked around his.

The orgasm crashes through me with a force that makes my spine bow and my hand slam against the wall, Julian’s name tearing out of me in a ragged whisper that sounds like relief as much as pleasure.

He holds my hand through it, keeping me anchored as sensation rolls through me and leaves me shaking in its wake. I was afraid maybe I’d feel emptied out, scraped hollow by shame, or maybe too exposed and stupid for wanting. I don’t. I feel raw, yes. Overwhelmed. Embarrassed enough that I’m sure the second I look at Julian’s face I’ll combust. But underneath all of that, I understand with a clarity so sharp it almost hurts—this memory belongs to me.

There’s no elegant way to stand after coming as hard as I just did. My knees actually buckle slightly, and Julian rises fast, pulling up my shorts and catching me at the waist. He pulls me close before I can slide down the wall and make the moment even more humiliating.

“Hey,” he murmurs against my temple. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Liefling.”

This time when he kisses me, it’s soft enough to make the tears finally spill over. He tastes like warmth and want and so much fucking love. I break off the kiss and wipe at my face, embarrassed, but Julian catches my wrist before I can hide too much. He presses his mouth to my knuckles, then my palm, then the inside of my wrist where my pulse is still racing.

I let my forehead drop to his chest and stay there instead of pulling myself back together too fast. His hand cups the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, and he holds me.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He pulls back, and his expression changes to one of confusion. “For what?”

I shrug one shoulder and let my hand rest over his heart. “For making it feel safe.”

Julian’s eyes widen in surprise, then his chin trembles and he pulls me back in, kissing me with so much care that it almost breaks me more than his mouth on my cock did.