Page 40 of From the Shadows

“Jess. Would you hand me my beer, please?”

The look she dishes me, narrowed side-eye and pinched lips, tells me I didn’t get it quite right.

So I push out a sigh and lower my tone. “Jessaline. My beer.”

The response is marked and immediate with goose bumps dancing along her skin. The shifting of her shoulders gives her neck an elegance I want to savor—no, explore. Because Jess loves her alliterations.

Her palm is warm on my knee. The effect is exactly what she’s looking for when she slides it to the inside, anchoring herself when she leans ever so slightly forward to reach the bottle. She pauses there, suspended, but not. Playing the part. Waiting for the shift in my stance.

And just as she described on the document she left for me, I relax into the sofa, spreading my knees wide, sliding low on the cushion. She tumbles to the soft rug in front of me, grasping for purchase. She only just catches herself, preventing a full face-plant by sliding her hand infinitesimally higher on my thigh.

Her eyes go wide and innocent, her lips parted in a perfectly fuckable little O. Her delivery is impeccable as she plays her role with the utmost care.

But it’s choreographed. Staged to perfection, because she wrote every fucking word. She detailed this scenario, likely spent countless hours agonizing over word choice, and then left it where I would have access.

“You okay, petit lapine?” I know she’s okay, because this little rabbit is the biggest badass I know, wrapped in capability and sin. There is not a damn thing that could sideline this woman except… “Don’t seem all that intimidated by the serpent in your hand.”

She shudders. It’s small and full of anticipation I plan to deliver on. And in a totally Jess move, she cups my balls and gives them a gentle squeeze as she shifts to her knees in front of me. Her smirk, though, is not in the script, and she fights hard to quash it.

“Uh-uh, baby.” I wait until I have her eyes before dropping my voice. “That’s not how that scene goes, and you know it.”

Every shift, knead, and stroke as she fondles me has a groan building low in my throat.

“Nothing wrong with a little editing after the fact.” She works the buckle on my belt, then my trousers, finally freeing my dick.

The relief is palpable and short lived, because as soon as it’s no longer constrained, she wraps her lips around my head and sucks. Gently at first, teasing the frenulum, exploring my slit. Tasting the precum.

Our eye contact is on point. Jess grips my wool trousers and tugs, pulling them just low enough to grant her access to all of me. Then the tease truly begins.

With my balls in her hand, she licks the underside of my dick from sac to tip, tracing the thick vein with the tip of her pretty pink tongue.

I watch her through hooded eyes. Plump, cherry red lips. A pretty pink blush painting her cheeks. And those eyes. Her fucking eyes, all wide and innocent looking when I know there is a dirty, dirty girl behind them. Thick black lashes frame them, the brown band of her irises nearly lost in the dark black sea of her pupils.

And her hands. Those fucking evil hands are doing things that are about to send me well before I’m ready. All of it… all of the sensations and teasing touches happen with that smug little grin.

I push the hair from her face and gather it in my fist. “God, you’re a wicked little thing hiding behind that lily-white persona.”

She laughs as she slides my dick into her mouth. Warm and wet, it’s velvet bliss.

She licks and sucks, going all out for the plot. I’m not saying it doesn’t work for me, because my cock is harder than steel. A bad blow job is still a blow job, and there is nothing bad about this. She moans and laves, playing her part.

But then Jess pauses, the head of my dick resting just between her pouty lips. The image is obscene. Erotic. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, they’re trained on mine and glittering with mischief.

“What are you⁠—”

She steals the words from my lips as she slides down, down, down my cock until her nose presses against my skin. Tears trail down her cheeks as she swallows.

“Fuck…” I groan as the muscles in her throat tighten and squeeze, massaging me from root to tip.

Jess slides her free hand to where I hold her hair. She unfurls my fist, flattening my hand until the back of her head is cupped in my palm. And then… then she places her hand over mine and pushes.

I see stars.

“Jess.” I don’t know what I think I’m going to say to her. Ask if she’s sure? Ask permission. Pretty sure permission has been granted.

Before another thought has a chance to form, she pulls back and looks at me, her gaze hazy and little bit wild, all at the same time.

“Fuck my mouth, Eddie. I want to feel you lose control.”