He watched her from under his lashes, his jaw set into a hard line. “You’re making a mistake, little witch.”
The mistake would be his this time. He could also be weak. That was what she wanted to prove, or at least that was what she told herself. Yet she couldn’t deny the pulse that throbbed between her legs, the spark of perverse excitement when she thought about what she was about to do.
He didn’t stop her when she unfastened the drawstring of his sweatpants or reached for the waistband. He only sat there with a stony look as she cupped the bulge between his legs over the fabric. He was thick and long, long enough for his erection to reach his navel if she were to free it from where it was tenting his pants.
She pulled the elastic of his waistband down while holding his gaze. His eyes flared. He gripped the armrests, regarding her through hooded eyes as she dipped her hand inside and folded her fingers around his cock. He hissed when she squeezed. The reaction strengthened her sense of feminine power.
She lowered her head slowly, giving him ample time to tell her to stop. When he said nothing, she gripped the base in one hand and brought his thick length to her lips. He watched her narrowly as she swirled her tongue around the head, taking her time to taste him. He was earth and wildness, rain and frosted skies. She registered his essence, locking it away in the place where she guarded her most treasured memories. Despite everything, she loved his taste. Despite what this started out to be, she prayed he wouldn’t open his mouth and tell her to stop. She held her breath as she sucked him deeper, but he didn’t make a sound. He only gripped the armrests harder, his knuckles turning white when she dragged her tongue over his length. Even when she stretched her lips around him, swallowing as much as she could, he didn’t utter as much as a chirp. It was only when she hollowed her cheeks that a low groan escaped from deep in his chest.
Curling her tongue, she sucked harder, using her hand to stroke the part she couldn’t swallow. His breathing came faster. One more stroke, and he tilted his hips. The breeze picked up, blowing leaves around them, but she didn’t notice the cold. She only felt the heat that spread through her body and gathered between her legs. It reflected in the molten color of his silver eyes. When her hair blew in front of her face, he grasped it in a ponytail at the back of her neck. Wild need was written in his grimace.
She slowed her movement and released him with a pop from her mouth. “Want me to stop?”
“Fuck.” Twisting her hair around his fist, he pushed her back down, making her take him.
She smiled around his cock when he cursed again, victory blazing through her body even as her arousal made her swollen and her wetness made her slick.
The control was no longer hers. He was using her mouth, setting the pace. Going too deep, he made her gag, but there was no slowing down, no giving gentle consideration.
“Damn you, Cle,” he said through gritted teeth, the words both a curse and a caress. Then with warning and punishment, “I’m going to come in your mouth.”
Instead of pulling away like she should, she cupped his balls. Instead of letting him finish like a good girl, she finished it for him by raking her teeth over his length.
A string of curses flew from his lips. His cock grew thicker a moment before spurts of cum coated her tongue. She didn’t hesitate. She swallowed every drop. A sound of pleasure vibrated in his chest. She milked him with her lips until he was dry, until he yanked her away by her hair, letting his softening cock slip from her mouth.
He stared down at her, his eyes still dark with the earlier wildness. “You’re dangerous.”
Point proven, she sat down on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Giving her a narrowed look, he straightened his clothes. His tone was taunting, angry almost. “Had much practice?”
She batted her eyelashes. “Only on you, stud.”
“Drop the act.” He pushed to his feet, towering over her. “I like you better as yourself.”
“Why, Joss, are you a bad loser?”
Clenching his jaw, he gripped her hand and pulled her up. His tone was cold, but regret rang in his voice. “It seems the only loser here is you, my sweet.”
“Admit it. You lost this round.”
His look sharpened on her face, and the regret she’d recognize earlier morphed into an apology in his expression. “I could’ve said stop at any time.”
“But you didn’t,” she said with defiance, and then his meaning sank in. He used her. He used her mouth to get off. She hadn’t won. She’d only made her defeat worse. A flush of anger heated her cheeks. Shame burned in her stomach. She couldn’t get out more than, “I see.” There was no way of salvaging her pride.
“I warned you,” he said, lowering his head to catch her gaze. “I told you it was a mistake, but you made the choice.”
She had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from uttering a sharp retort that would only make her lose even more face. What was this? A lesson teaching her she’d never win a single battle in this war?
He frowned as his gaze fell on her knees. “We better go inside and check that out.”
She glanced down. Scrapes from the concrete marred her skin. “It’s just a few scratches.”
“Your lips are blue.” Taking a cup of coffee, he placed it in her hands. “Here. This’ll warm you up.” He glanced at the sky. “Rain’s coming.”
She followed his gaze. Thick,
